


Body Count

by sockpuppeteer, takethistomygrave



Series: Terror [2]
Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Blood Play, Bottom Frank Iero, Crazy Gerard Way, Disturbing Themes, Gun play, Knife Play, M/M, Minor Character Death, Psychopath Gerard Way, Serial Killer Gerard Way, Sexual Content, Top Gerard Way, Violence, may be triggering, original character death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-24
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-04-27 08:56:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 22,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14421927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sockpuppeteer/pseuds/sockpuppeteer, https://archiveofourown.org/users/takethistomygrave/pseuds/takethistomygrave
Summary: “Frankie, darling.” Gerard cooed as he moved the knife down again. Frank choked out another pathetic sob as the worst pain possible flooded his senses. “You should know by now that I can dowhatever the fuck I want to.”





	1. Part One.

**Author's Note:**

> Back on my bullshit with another installment of this overly fucked up series, except this time it was written with a friend. A big thank you to Sockpuppeteer for going through and editing my major grammar mistakes, and for generally just making this fic better with her writing. enjoy the part one of our fic!
> 
> xoxo, meg.

Frank looked down at his hands, picking at his nails as Gerard dragged a finger along his back. Gerard had been tracing the scars of his name for what felt like the past hour, but in reality could only have been seven or eight minutes. A lot of things seemed to take longer with Gerard. Frank wasn’t totally convinced that it was all in his imagination. While Gerard wasn’t really too patient with _him_ he often took a long time over things, to appreciate them more. Frank wasn’t entirely sure if this was one of those times.

“These healed nicely.” Gerard uttered, pressing down slightly on a spot for a second before dragging his finger over the letters once again. Frank shifted, the feeling of Gerard’s pencil- and knife-calluses sparking against his tender skin like a live wire. He couldn't put his finger on the feeling, exactly. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it wasn’t really something that he would call enjoyable either. Not quite. Thinking about it, he could say that about a lot of things Gerard had done to him in the past.

“Despite the fact that you hardly gave them any time to heal, surprisingly, yes.” Frank replied absentmindedly. While they had healed well, it sure as hell didn’t feel good getting there. Every movement made the skin of Frank’s back protest angrily, a stinging reminder that things weren't okay every time he moved. But that reminder wasn’t too bad, aside from the pain. Yeah, it _did_ remind him that things were wrong, but Frank was okay with it. Frank was okay with things being wrong. Maybe they were supposed to be... Everything had always been bad for Frank, but for once, this time, he had a say in what was happening. Kind of.

Frank’s eyes flickered up to the dark television, his eyes landing on their reflections. He quietly took in their mirrored appearances, holding himself still as to not alert Gerard and have him ruin the moment. Frank took note of Gerard’s tilted head, the hair hanging in his face, the way his lips were parted as he inspected Frank’s back. He seemed relaxed, almost content as he continued stroking Frank’s back gently. They were both bare chested, as they both normally slept without shirts; Gerard had told Frank in the beginning that it made him feel constrained and trapped, despite it only being a piece of clothing, and Frank had never questioned it.

Frank sighed and closed his eyes, a small smile settling on his face when Gerard paused, allowing him to enjoy a moment free of the almost uncomfortable tickling feeling. It gave him a minute to think, to relax, to enjoy their proximity and the softness of the moment they were sharing.

Frank should really have known better than to relax by now.  

He really should have known that you could _never_ be relaxed around Gerard. Despite how calm he may have seemed, Gerard wasn’t  _relaxed_ He just wasn’t something he was able to feel. He might appear almost laid back when he knew he had control of a situation, but his mind was still working on overdrive. And the moment the sound of laughing teenagers and a banging noise shattered their silence, Frank knew that Gerard was going to lose it.

Too quickly for Frank to react, Gerard suddenly curled all four fingers and thumb, digging his nails into Frank’s skin and clawing down his back. Frank shrieked as his flesh split with barely a fight, white hot lines of agony rising from shoulder blade to hip, the familiar, warm spill of blood oozing from within.

 _“What the fuck?”_ Frank hissed, quickly pushing himself away. He’d only moved a few inches before Gerard was reaching out and grabbing him, digging his nails into the skin of his arm and yanking him back. He glared at Frank, annoyance heavy in his gaze.

Gerard narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing him before letting go of his arm, his lips curling down into a grimace. “Sorry,” he muttered halfheartedly. “I just fucking hate them.”

 _Them_ were the obnoxious teenagers that came from the family down the street. The ones that liked to kick things over and smash them with bats. The really, really bad kids. They were the kind that Frank originally only saw in movies and hoped that he’d never have to deal with in real life. But apparently he hadn’t hoped hard enough.

“Okay, but why the hell did you have to attack _me?”_ Frank scowled, bringing his hand up to prod at his shoulder wound to assess the damage, and flinching when a sharp pain shot through him. Judging by the amount of dark, crimson blood staining his fingers when he brought his hand back, it was as bad as he thought; probably worse. “I didn’t even fuckin’ do anything, Gee.”

He heard Gerard sigh from behind him, sounding aggravated. Frank rolled his eyes, realizing too late that Gerard could see him in the reflection of the television. Frank huffed before craning his neck to look at Gerard, who had narrowed his eyes at him, watching him with almost guarded eyes, though a small smile was resting on his lips.

“Sorry.” Frank apologized briefly, attempting to turn more but wincing when it made his skin stretch and his cuts burn. “Natural instinct. Now, answer me, please.” He tried, settling back into his previous position.

“Natural instinct.” Gerard mimicked, mocking Frank. It actually _was_ just a natural response and Frank just happened to be in the way. Anyway, he felt like Frank deserved to get hurt. Though he was still a little bit pissed about Frank rolling his eyes, he knew that it wasn’t too big a deal. And he was feeling a little bit nicer than usual today… Despite ripping Frank’s skin open.

Frank pouted, his bottom lip sticking out as he glared at the wall. “Funny.” He said angrily, hating that Gerard was making fun of him. “I hate them too but you don’t see me destroying your goddamn back.”

“Mhm. Sorry, Frankie.” Gerard replied, his tone surprisingly kind. Frank yelped when Gerard brought his hand up, poking at the injury. Frank caught his bottom lip between his teeth, biting down hard to hold back a whimper when Gerard ran his thumb over it, digging his nail into it. “This looks very pretty, Frankie. Adds to your beauty.”

Despite the pain and how crude he was before, Frank felt a blush creeping up his cheeks at the comment. It warmed Frank’s heart a little, and he felt his irritation rapidly fading away in the face of Gerard’s uncharacteristic and sudden gentleness. Even if the compliment was kind of creepy.

“I hate that they bother you, Frankie. I can always deal with them if you want.” Gerard offered. Frank shook his head with a humored expression, a tired smile curling at the corners of his mouth.

“I’ve already yelled at them, Gerard. They don’t listen.” Frank chuckled, unaware that Gerard had more than just talking to them in mind. Gerard raised an eyebrow at his lover before smiling grimly.

“That’s not what I meant, darling.” Gerard replied, his voice dropping low. Frank’s stomach twisted in response. Low and _dangerous._ “I meant I could kill them for you, sweetheart.”

All of his good feelings suddenly gone, Frank gasped in horror and tried to get away from him , but Gerard had already wrapped his arms around Frank’s waist, pulling him back and holding him tight against his chest. Frank whimpered softly at the pressure on the gashes in his back.

“No!” He exclaimed. “Gerard, no. That’s the last thing I want you to do! They’re just children! Please don’t do anything to them. It’s fine, really! It is.” Frank begged, his breath coming faster as panic began to set in. “No, no, no,  _no_ _._ Gerard, no! _”_

“One is them is nineteen, Frankie.” Gerard murmured, completely ignoring Frank’s pleas. He wished Frank realized that it wasn’t an issue for him. He could easily get rid of all of them, it wouldn’t be a problem. “He’s not a kid.”

Frank squeezed his eyes closed tightly as he tried to fight back his fear. Gerard would listen to him if he tried hard enough. Maybe… Maybe if he got Gerard off, he would. Gerard liked sex, a _lot_. Surely that would change his mind... But Frank’s anxiety was through the roof right now and he wasn’t sure he was feeling up to Gerard’s version of sexual excitement. Maybe it would be better to save sex for the last resort.

“He’s still a child, Gee. He’s so young.” Frank’s voice cracked as he fought back tears. He could handle most of Gerard without crying. He’d learned to handle a lot in the time they’d been together, since the first time. But it was the murder that always got to him. The murder he knew he could stop. Or try to, at least. He could minimize the amount of search parties and the weeping mothers. The graves of rotting, mangled bodies, and the graves with headstones marking empty coffins.

“So?” Gerard questioned softly, relaxing his grip on Frank’s body minutely. There was genuine confusion in his voice, like he couldn’t understand why Frank would see age as a reason to let someone live.

“So _he’s a child!_ Remember our deal? No killing children!” Frank reminded him desperately. Oh man, this was _bad._ Gerard wasn’t going to listen to him, was he? Somebody was going to die soon. A _child._

“Frank, you overthink things.” Gerard insisted. He wasn’t going to let up. Frank had been right: _he wasn’t going to listen._ “There’s no reason to worry about anything. Don’t stress it. I’ll deal with it and then they won’t bother us anymore.” He cooed. His tone made Frank’s skin crawl, his anxiety heightening.

“I don’t fucking want that, Gerard.” Frank hissed, though there wasn’t much anger in it. He was too worried to really be angry right now. “ _Fuck,”_ he swore quietly as he felt Gerard’s fingers tangle in the hair at the back of his head. He should have known not to say anything. He really fucking should have.

“Watch your tone, Frankie.” Gerard warned, haughtily chuckling. “I still own you. Don’t think anything has changed just because I’m going to do something for you.”

_I’m going to do something for you._

Gerard was going to go through with it, one way or another. And Frank couldn’t do shit about it.

“Gerard, no! Don’t you fucking dare!” He told the other off, his voice raising rapidly. He tried to get away, but of course Gerard didn’t let him go. Gerard _never_ let him go, so he didn’t know why he was trying. All it got him was pain from his thin hairs being tugged. “I swear to fucking God, if you do this I’ll-“

Gerard immediately cut him off, letting go off his hair suddenly before he started to giggle into his shoulder. His laugh sounded so sweet, which made Frank feel so much _worse._ “What, Frankie? You’ll what?” His voice turned hard. “You can’t do _shit._ You’re powerless here.”

Except he wasn’t completely powerless. Frank had something to say. Something that would have made everything go to hell. Something that Gerard _hated,_ and he had proven many times before. Like when he locked Frank in the basement. That was because he had said it. Frank had very little power, Gerard was right. But he had those words.

He could threaten to leave.

But he _wouldn’t._ He knew Gerard wouldn’t take that well and it was only going to make things worse. A _lot_ worse.

“Nothing.” Frank whispered, dropping his head down between his shoulders after dealing with his inner turmoil. “You’re...you’re right. I can’t do anything.” He mumbled, eyes downcast.

Maybe if he played the submissive right now he could get away with it, get away with snapping at Gerard and maybe save those children. Just maybe. Or at least some of them… But Gerard wasn’t an idiot. He snorted before speaking again. “Being a whore isn’t going to get you anywhere.”

_Fuck._

“I’m not being a whore.” Frank defended, a frown on his face. Except that was _exactly_ what he was being. Or trying to be, at least. He breathed in deeply, trying to calm his nerves before he tried anything again. He waited a few seconds before forcing a smile on his face. It was supposed to be sexy and amorous, but he was pretty sure he just looked like he was in pain.

“Come on, Gee, baby. Listen to me.” He purred, shifting and reaching out to touch Gerard’s thigh. He grasped it lightly, trying to make himself smile harder. “I thought you liked it when I acted like a whore.” He fluttered his lashes, trying to ignore how gross he felt. He hated when he put himself up for sex when he didn’t really want it.

Gerard narrowed his eyes in suspicion, glaring at him angrily. He knew what Frank was onto, and that sent even more panic coursing through Frank. He couldn’t change Gerard’s mind and he knew that. But he had to try.

“Gee, babe,” Frank whispered. He silently swore at himself when he hear his voice crack. He swiftly tried to cover it up with a flirtatious laugh. “Don’t you want me?” He forced himself to maintain eye contact as he slid his hands up Gerard’s pajama covered leg, batting his lashes at the elder when his fingers brushed over his bulge. Frank pouted when Gerard didn’t show any reaction. He opened his mouth to complain and try again, but his lips had barely parted when a gasp escaped instead.

Gerard had snatched his hand up, wrenching it away from his crotch. Frank almost immediately regretted what he had done once he saw Gerard’s face. His mouth had twisted into an ugly scowl, rage flickering in his eyes.

“Not now, Frank. Fuck off.” Gerard hissed. Frank squealed when Gerard squeezed his wrist, his grip extremely tight. This was backfiring _majorly._

“Gerard, there’s no need to do this,” Frank babbled almost inaudibly. He had dropped the sexual ploy, seeing that it wasn’t working even in the slightest. He was basically about to just give up. Gerard hardly ever denied sex; Frank was sure that it was one of his favorite things. Besides killing and Frank, of course. So he knew it was bad now.

“You said that you’d take care of them if I wanted, Gee. I don’t want this.” Frank attempted one last time. He knew it was in vain as soon as a snarl curled on Gerard’s face, mauling his pretty features.

Gerard gritted his teeth, his lip curling back as his expression hardened. For a split second, all the color drained from Frank’s face. He gulped, averting his eyes, unable to hold Gerard’s angry gaze anymore.

“I know what I said, Frankie.” Gerard started, voice low. _Dangerous._ “And I know _you._ You want them gone; you want them _dead._ You’re just too nice to admit it.”

“That’s not true. That’s not true at all.” Frank whimpered, his breathing labored. That was the last fucking thing he wanted. He didn’t want _anybody_ to die. Well, actually, there were _some_ people that deserved to die. Bad, _bad_ people, people worse than Gerard, but that really wasn’t the point right now.

Gerard huffed and shook his head. He always became irritated when Frank started acting like this. Frank had so much potential and he was _wasting_ it. He could do so much. So much, so perfectly. Of course, Gerard would have to teach him a few things, but that was fine. He was more than happy to do so, especially as he’d be getting to do one of his favorite things with his favorite person. They would make a wonderful team - a real, modern day Bonnie and Clyde.

“It is, Frankie.”

And with that, he shoved himself from the bed; opening the bathroom door and leaving a frightened Frank behind.

* * *

Frank had convinced Gerard to leave the house, hoping that some time spent outside together might change his mood.

It didn’t.

So there they were, wandering around the grocery store that Frank had suggested they go to. They didn’t actually _need_ anything, not really; at least, they hadn’t until the milk _mysteriously_ disappeared. Frank didn’t really believe he’d gotten away with dumping it out in their backyard. He was sure that Gerard had caught on and ignored it, maybe deeming it not a big deal. That was strange, for Gerard, but Frank knew better than to poke the hornet’s nest. It might all be in vain and turn into another basement episode, but Frank didn’t take it too well last time, so he didn’t think the chances of Gerard doing that to him again were high.

“I’m going to the pizza aisle.” Gerard murmured quietly, almost whispering into Frank’s ear. His voice was heavy with unspoken words, and Frank leaned back to give him a puzzled look, wondering why he was acting so secretively. Gerard didn’t offer up anything else though, just shot Frank a cheeky smile and strolled away.

Frank shook his head before turning to look back to the shelves in front of him. Gerard was so _strange._ He had always been strange, but Frank still wasn’t quite used to it. He wasn’t worried about Gerard doing something in public; Gerard wasn’t a fucking idiot. There had been the odd instance where Gerard got pissed off and became slightly aggressive towards Frank, but it was never enough to tip anybody off.

Gerard had snapped at other people before, of course. Not regularly, and normally only over something that seriously aggravated him. Jealousy brought out his true colors more than anything else that Frank had seen. Frank wasn’t ugly, not at all, and that meant that, occasionally, people took an interest. And Gerard wasn’t particularly fond of people taking an interest in what was his. Gerard never caused a scene, though. He didn’t like the attention on him, or on Frank, and he usually stuck to hushed, angry words with the odd almost-harmless threat. Just enough to get them to back off; never enough to draw attention to them. 

There was nothing - _nobody_ \- that Gerard couldn’t take care of.

Frank shivered, his eyes fluttering closed as he fought back the intruding thoughts. He couldn’t help but blame himself. Fuck, he knew it wasn’t directly his fault; Gerard killed them, not Frank. The blood wasn’t on Frank’s hands, but the weight of knowing they died because Gerard was obsessed with him was. It held him down and haunted his thoughts until he was a crying mess. He just hoped there wasn’t going to be an incident today. He really wasn’t in the mood for crying.

Frank heard the wheels of the shopping cart rolling before he heard their voice. He wished it had stayed that way as he realized who was talking.

“I don’t get why we’re here. We already have food.”

“Your cousins are coming over and we don’t have enough for them, Louis. I’ve told you this already.”

Frank mentally cursed, his eyes cracking open. He looked at the figure out of the corner of his eye, actually muttering a, “ _fuck”_ under his breath this time. Of fucking _course_ they were there. Out of everyone.

Louis was one of the kids up the street. Louis was the nineteen year old that Gerard had threatened to kill. Louis was there with his mother, standing next to the boyfriend of the guy that wanted to kill him.

This was _fucked_.

Frank hung his head, praying silently that they wouldn’t realize it was him. But Frank never did have the best of luck, so he wasn’t as surprised as he should have been when he heard his name. Frank hissed out another swear, probably a bit too loud this time, before forcing himself to look up with a smile.

“Hi, Edith,” he said weakly, grateful that she didn’t notice the crack in his voice. Or at least didn’t show it if she did. Frank desperately tried to ignore Louis, who was staring at him, arms crossed.

Louis wasn’t a good kid. Frank didn’t even really think Louis was a good person. Louis was the kid that did things - usually _illegal_ things - to piss his parents off, and did it proudly. He was the kid that looked Frank straight in the eye before kicking Frank’s trashcan over. He was most definitely not well-behaved.

But he didn’t deserve to _die._

Frank did stupid things as a teen. He was never that disrespectful, but he did things that weren’t really the best. But what teenager did? Frank was immature, never really thinking of the consequences of his actions. Louis was the same way. Just worse.

It didn’t take much longer for everything to click together in Frank’s mind. _This_ was why Gerard had left in such a hurry. Gerard had seen them, and the fucker had just left Frank there with them, as if it could change Frank’s mind. No, this just made it all _worse._ All he could think about every time he looked at Louis was his bloody corpse.

“I haven’t spoken to you in a while!” Edith, Louis’ mother, said sweetly, resting her hand on Frank’s shoulder in a kind gesture. “Been busy?”

“Yeah, I guess you could say that.” Frank mumbled. God, he really didn’t want to have a conversation right now, not even a little bit. This was quite literally the _last_ thing he wanted. Edith laughed, squeezing Frank’s arm gently.

“How are you? How’s Gerard?”

Frank clenched his hands, eyes flickering to the side before returning to Edith’s frame.

“I’m fine,” he smiled as he lied through his teeth. He was _not_ fine. _Nothing_ was fine. “Gerard is uh, he’s doing good.”

This time, Edith picked up on Frank’s odd behavior, pulling her hand away and giving him a concerned glance.

“Is everything alright? Oh, are you guys fighting?” She questioned. Frank forced himself to ignore Louis, who was shamelessly staring.

“Ah, no.” Frank spat out a nervous laugh. “He just went to find pizza, and he’s been gone for a while. You just made me realize how long it’s taking him,” he fibbed, hoping that she couldn’t see through it. He relaxed when she chuckled, oblivious to what was really going on. Louis, however, wasn’t fooled. Frank could see him narrow his eyes and turn his mouth down into an ugly frown.

“Oh, yeah. My husband does that. He loses track of time.” She responded, grimacing. “I guess they’re not so different.”

Frank laughed at that. He laughed not because it was charming; he laughed because it was so far from the truth.

“Maybe.” He chuckled lightly, his anxiety rising the longer Louis stared at him. He shot the teenager a gentle smile, but it was just returned with a scowl. Louis’ scowl deepened when his mother gave him a condescending look. Frank winced when his wounds suddenly stung, reminding him of their presence and that Gerard wasn’t afraid to hurt him to get what he wanted.

“Oh, Louis. You never grabbed me those rolls I asked you to get.” Edith spoke to her son with a frown, taking her attention away from Frank for just a few seconds. She shook her head in disappointment when Louis shrugged before glancing back up at Frank. “I’ll be right back, Frank. I’m just going to get it myself because I know Louis won’t find them.” She shook her head once again before letting go of the cart and turning on her heel. Frank watched as her form retreated, trying to ignore the nineteen year old staring at him.

“You’re the one with the freak boyfriend.” Louis stated as soon as his mom was out of sight.

Frank let out a frustrated noise. He didn’t want this kid to die, but he really wouldn’t have a problem with somebody kicking the shit out of him. His manners were fucking _horrible._

“He’s not a freak.” Frank snapped, though he knew he was lying. Everyone fucking knew. “Don’t be rude. He’s fine. He’s a good boyfriend and I love him.”

_He’s not a good boyfriend._

Frank pushed that thought to the back of his head, feeling slightly guilty. Yeah, Gerard had his issues, but he took care of Frank. He helped him when he needed it. And for that, Frank deemed him a good boyfriend.

“Why?”

“Why is he a good boyfriend?” Frank replied to his question. What the hell was he supposed to say to that? He’s a good boyfriend because he helps Frank after beating the hell out of him? He bathes him when Frank is too battered and out of it to clean himself?

“No.” Louis rolled his eyes, shaking his head with a scoff. “Why do you love him? He’s a _freak.”_

That was it for Frank. Gerard was a fucking asshole and he pissed him off no end sometimes, but Frank _loved_ him, and he wasn’t going to let some piece of shit kid trash him.

“Listen you fucking punk,” Frank began angrily. He didn’t care that he was losing his cool now. Louis was overstepping his boundaries and Frank didn’t appreciate it. “He’s not a fucking freak. I love him and I always have loved him. I don’t need to explain myself to you at all, and I definitely don’t need to explain our relationship. Grow the fuck up and learn how to respect others before you get your ass beat.” He seethed. The fucking _nerve_ this kid had!

Frank realized seconds after that his words had no effect on the younger when Louis snickered. “Yeah, sure. Whatever.”

“Are you fucking -” Frank stopped himself from finishing his sentence. Arguing with the kid would do no good, and it would just make Frank childish. “Okay, never mind. Let’s just drop it.” He sighed, bringing his eyes away from Louis to the shelves in front of him. “I’m not going to fight with you over this.”

“Pussy.”

“You know what, you - _ugh,_ I’m not even going to do this.” Frank scoffed, shaking his head. Just because he told himself he wasn’t going to _fight_ the kid, didn’t mean he couldn’t be a little snippy. Despite how childish it made him; he just couldn’t help himself with that.

“Cause you’re a _pussy._ ”

Frank wanted to snap back, ‘ _no, it’s because I’m not fucking immature.’_ but he bit his tongue, ignoring Louis’ remark instead. Anyways, he wasn’t being entirely truthful. Frank _was_ kind of immature at times…

Louis muttered something else under his breath, but it was too low for Frank to hear. Which was probably a good thing, if he thought about it. Then he wouldn’t have the chance to come up with something mean. He didn’t want to make anything worse, he just wanted this conversation to be over.

Frank somehow managed to forget that this child was Gerard’s prey for a few minutes, until he saw Gerard slowly moving through the crowded grocery story. Panic settled in him once again, and, despite how much he hated Louis, he still didn’t want him to _die_.

“Louis, I know you’re not going to listen to me, but...just be more careful.” He forced out. He was going to get _so much shit_ for this, but he had to say something. Maybe Gerard would back off if Louis was more on alert. Maybe he realized there was a chance that Louis could tell somebody, so it’d be suspicious if Louis randomly disappeared. Fuck, he knew he was risking so much at that moment, but it’s not like it could truly harm them if Louis remained unscathed. His claim wouldn’t be held too accountable if nothing happened. There was no proof Frank said anything.

“Just watch out for yourself.”

“What are you talking about?” Louis stared at him skeptically, obviously suspicious now. Frank huffed and dragged a hand down his face. He had to clean this up now and make the conversation less shady.

“I just meant that you need to be more careful. With...with how you talk to people. You can’t just be so rude to people and not think they’ll fight back. You’re going to get yourself hurt. Some people aren’t as forgiving as I am.” Frank said, forcing a strained smile on his face. He felt slightly relieved when recognition flickered across Louis’ face, followed by a snide little snicker.

“Oh, wow, you’re giving me an old man talk. Cause what, you’re all fuckin’ grown up and shit? Like I don’t already _know_ these things? Wow, thanks. I’m _so_ grateful.” Louis spat out, laughing cruelly.

Frank gulped, his eyes dropping to the floor as the truth of the matter hit him. Louis was going to die. And there wasn’t anything Frank could do about it, not without giving Gerard away. Louis wasn’t worth that, nobody was, and as terrible Frank felt thinking it, he couldn’t deny it.

Frank opened his mouth to say something else, to tie to conversation up, but he never got the chance to once he realized Louis was looking over his shoulder with a snarky smile. Frank knew what that meant; Gerard was back. The arms that wrapped themselves around Frank’s waist  seconds after only proved him correct. Frank bit back the whimper that wanted to break from him when he was yanked against Gerard’s chest, held tightly.

“Hi, darling.” He murmured, hooking his chin over Frank’s shoulder. “Hello, Louis.”

“Fuck off.”

“Ah, as charming as ever.” Gerard replied, and Frank could hear the wry smile in his voice. His hold on Frank became suddenly tighter; not enough for anyone else to notice, just enough for Frank to feel it. Maybe it was because Frank was on high alert and his nerves were shot, possibly because he was straight up fucking _terrified,_ but it felt a lot worse. It hurt when it shouldn’t have. Frank knew it was all in his head, but that didn’t stop him from flinching.

“Anyway, Frank and I have to go, don’t we Frankie?” Gerard finished, silently threatening him. His words obviously had a double meaning, meant for Frank’s ears only. Shit, almost _everything_ Gerard said had a double meaning. Since he couldn’t say what he wanted to publicly, he constantly found a way to imply that danger was coming, unbeknownst to others. Only Frank knew, and only Frank would _ever_ know.

“Yeah.” Frank sighed, knowing better than to fight this. He really didn’t want to go home. Home meant Gerard could yell at him freely, and Frank didn’t want that right now.. Frank just wanted some fucking _peace_ for once. But he knew he wasn’t going to get that - peace really wasn’t a thing with Gerard in the picture. Frank didn’t always mind, but this was one of those situations where he did.

“Bye, Louis.” Frank murmured before gripping the shopping cart handle and letting himself be led away. Gerard had grabbed onto his arm now, and his hold was growing tighter and tighter by the second. Gerard had heard him. Gerard fucking _knew._ Gerard knew and Frank was doomed because of it.

 _At least I know one of us will survive._ Frank thought grimly as Gerard emptied the cart of their items, placing them in front of the cashier. Frank raised his eyebrows when he saw a pizza box being scanned. Frank didn’t actually think that Gerard would bring anything back since it was just a ploy, but apparently he thought wrong. At least he’d have pizza to eat after he was torn apart.

Frank forced himself to look up, though he instantly regretted it as his eyes caught Gerard’s. God, he was in _so_ much trouble. Gerard didn’t look blatantly angry, but Frank knew what to look for. Gerard was _pissed._

He faintly heard Gerard thanking the cashier and grabbing their bags. Frank robotically pushed the cart forward, moving it out of the way and into the slot with the other carts. He wasn’t really thinking at the moment. Everything was automatic. He was able to keep it that way until they reached their car. Frank instinctively jerked away from the touch, but Gerard was quicker than his reflexes. Gerard had Frank’s wrist in a crushing grip as he yanked him closer, his lip curling back into an ugly snarl as he stared at Frank. Frank whimpered pathetically, weakly attempting to pull from Gerard’s hold. Of course, it was all in vain. Gerard didn’t loosen his grip at all.

“What the _fuck_ was that, Frankie?” Gerard sneered through gritted teeth. Gerard was still whisper-soft, seeing as they were in public, but he didn't feel the need to be as kind as usual since they were in an empty parking lot. “Are you trying to be a fuckin’ hero or something?” He snapped, clenching Frank’s wrist. Frank made another pitiful noise as pain radiated through his arm.

“I didn’t tell him anything, Gerard. I swear I didn’t -”

“I know you fuckin’ didn’t, Frank. I heard you.” Gerard spat out angrily, suddenly releasing Frank. “Just get in the fucking car.” He ordered. Frank immediately opened the door of his vehicle and sat, closing it after as his foot tapped rapidly against the floor of the car, though it instantly stopped when Gerard ducked into the car and shot him a dirty look. Frank quickly murmured an apology and cast his eyes to the ground.

“You know, Frankie,” Gerard said as he reached for the rear-view mirror, adjusting it slightly before turning to gaze at Frank. “If things were different, and you didn’t belong to me, I would have undoubtedly fucking killed you by now.”

Frank’s breath caught in his throat when Gerard spoke, a strike of fear shooting through him. _Fuck,_ that was terrifying.

“Why haven’t you?” Frank braved himself to ask, although he already knew the answer.

Gerard loved him. And he had just said as much - _Frank belonged to him._ Gerard wouldn’t get rid of him. He knew that now. Of course, that confidence fled when he was scared shitless, but for the most part, he knew it.

“You know why.” Gerard responded snippily, reversing from their parking spot.

Usually Frank would say something along the lines of, ‘ _no, I don’t’_ to play with Gerard, but he knew Gerard was up for a different game than Frank.

“Okay. Why would you have killed me, then?” Frank tried. He knew the answer to this too - it’s because Frank wasn’t the best submissive. He was angry and argumentative and Gerard wasn’t always in the mood for it. Of course Gerard didn’t mind trying to tame Frank. Oh no, that was part of the fun. Frank just _never fucking listened_ when he was supposed to.

“Because you’re stubborn, argumentative, insubordinate, _kind._ Oh, Frankie. You’re too damn nice and it’s _irritating_ because I know you have it in you to be cruel.” Gerard told him. His voice was a lot softer now, his mood having sharply fluctuated. “You were mean to Louis, after all.”

Frank wanted to snap back, spit some insults at Gerard, but he knew better than that. It would definitely make things worse and he didn’t have time for that. He needed to calm Gerard down, although he knew his attempts would be in vain.

_Should I even try?_

No. He shouldn’t because it _wasn’t going to work_ . Based on past experience, there wasn’t even the slimmest chance that it would. But Frank wasn’t surprised; he was _never_ enough. So, with a disgruntled sound, Frank slumped in his seat and held back his argument. He knew he had to reply, so he did, wincing when he realized how mean he sounded.

“Yeah, well, he was attacking my boyfriend. I wasn’t going to thank him and give him a pat on the back.” Frank told him, squeezing his eyes shut as he prepared for hell to break loose. Gerard angry in a car would be _traumatizing._ Frank had nowhere to go, unless he threw himself out of the fucking car, and he sure as hell wasn’t doing that. He cracked his eyes open when Gerard started to laugh, instantly suspicious when it didn’t sound aggressive.

“You were still mean, Frankie. And I’m glad to know that you’ll still protect me, no matter how many times I ruin you.” Gerard chuckled playfully.

Frank didn’t trust it. He didn’t trust that laugh at all, because rage was still festering in Gerard’s eyes and his fingers kept twitching around the wheel. Normally, Gerard could cover his emotions. He could take them from his eyes and tuck them away like they were nothing. But he wasn’t now, and Frank was pretty sure it was on purpose. To warn Frank, in his own crude way.

“Of course I will,” Frank admitted. “I love you.” A small part of him hoped that his affection would trigger the softer side in Gerard. Gerard was sometimes easier to persuade when he was in an affectionate mood.

“I know that.” A soft smile tugged at the corners of Gerard’s mouth, making Frank’s heart race. _This was his chance._ Or so he thought. The smile disappeared just as fast as it came, and Frank’s heart instead began to sink. “That’s not going to get you out of anything, though. You’re still in a lot of fucking trouble.”

“Ah, fuck _.”_ Frank whispered. Of course it failed. He didn’t know why he expected anything else.

“Yeah, Frankie. _Ah fuck_ is right.” Gerard snickered as he turned the steering wheel, taking them through the curve that led to their neighborhood. Shit, why did they have to live so close to the store? For once, Frank hated that. Now he hardly had any time until he got the shit beat out of him.

“You know why I left you with him, Frankie?” Gerard asked eventually.

“To be a dick?” Frank snorted, giggling when Gerard suddenly beamed at him. Sometimes Frank found his mood flexing as fast as Gerard’s did, but that was usually only when Gerard managed to be nice. He was still stressed to no end, of course. And he definitely wouldn’t just drop all of his worries. But he supposed that he could laugh a little…

“I’m basically always being a dick, darling. You know this. But no. I did it so you could asses him some more. Realize why I’m going to do it.”

Frank’s blood ran cold as soon as Gerard spoke. All the laughter and happiness was sucked from him immediately, his brain urging him to pick fight or flight. But Frank couldn’t fight, and he sure as hell couldn’t run away either, unless he threw himself from the car. Which, once again, was a bad idea.

“Gerard, no-’

“Never mind. Guess it didn’t work.” Gerard snapped, suddenly catching an attitude. Frank huffed out a frustrated, strained noise and clenched his eyes shut. This was so messy. So fucking messy and disturbed. And he was forced to sit and let it happen. The only way out was the cops, and there was no way in hell Frank would _ever_ give up the man he loved. Never.

“What did you expect?” Frank sighed, opening his eyes and letting his head roll to the side so he was staring out the window. He dryly laughed when it started to rain, the sudden drops pelting against his window. How fitting. “It’ll never work. I’m not like you...” Frank whispered.

Frank expected a snarky remark back; a newfound anger bubbling behind harsh words. But he never got it. He instead received a few seconds of silence and a deep breath from the other. It was nothing until Gerard spoke suddenly.

“I know.”

* * *

They hadn’t been in the house for ten minutes when Gerard snapped. Frank had had his head slammed against a lot of things over the period of time that he had been with Gerard. Walls, the floor, the cabinet, a damn _tree_ . He was pretty immune to these things. But he didn’t seem to fair too well when Gerard brought Frank’s head down against their kitchen counter. Frank vomited right after, which annoyed Gerard _even more._

“I’ll get you ice and pain medicine after this. Just stop fuckin’ whining.” Gerard hissed as he dragged Frank from their kitchen, passing through their living room in the process of going to their bedroom. Frank had been making whimper-like noises for the past few minutes, and it was really starting to annoy Gerard. Though a small part of him was afraid that Frank had a concussion. But he was probably fine. Frank had survived a lot worse.

Frank squeaked when Gerard shoved him on the bed, the squeak turning into a pathetic whine when he realized Gerard was locking the door.

“Remember that time I threatened to shoot you? When I held our pretty gun down on you?” Gerard asked Frank slowly, keeping his back turned. Frank scoffed, unaware of what was going to follow.

“Yeah. I fucking hated that.” Frank spat. “I don’t like gunplay.” He didn’t care that his attitude was going to get him into more shit. It was already going to be bad no matter what. Which was stupid, but what was the worst Gerard could do? He wouldn’t kill him, he’d just beat the shit out of him. And maybe, if Frank was hurt enough, he’d postpone Louis’ death since he would have to fix Frank up.

“I don’t like your fuckin’ attitude, but I still have to fuckin’ deal with it.” Gerard hissed back. Gerard shifted towards a drawer to his left, slowly opening it. Frank’s heart dropped in his chest as he realized what was about to happen. Gerard had brought up the gun incident because he was going to do it again.

“Gee-”

“Don’t, Frankie.” Gerard rasped, a smile blooming on his face when he pulled the weapon from the drawer. Gerard hardly ever used guns for killing. They weren’t personal enough for him. If he was going to kill somebody, he wanted to _feel_ it. He couldn’t with a gun. But it was great for scaring Frank. He knew that the possibility of it going off randomly terrified Frank, and that was _exactly_ what he wanted. Frank was great when he was afraid. Frank was _stunning_ when he was filled with that beautiful fear that Gerard wanted. It was intoxicating knowing he could instill that in him so easily. It made him feel so powerful.

“Christ,” Frank whispered when it was brought into his sight. He forgot how quickly it had an effect on him, and just how scary the mere sight of one could be. Frank fucking _hated_ guns. But he knew Gerard didn’t care. Gerard would still use it to play with his nerves, make Frank fear him even more than he usually did.

“God, you’re not actually going to play with that, are you?” Frank questioned in a shaking voice, despite already knowing the answer. Of fucking _course_ Gerard was going to play with it. This was _Gerard_ , for fuck’s sake. He did what he wanted, and didn’t give a shit if others didn’t want him to.

“What the fuck do you think?” Gerard uttered, flipping the gun open to check if the bullets were loaded. “That’s a really fuckin’ stupid question to ask me, even for you.”

Frank winced, already affected by the first insult even though it made him angry, too. Frank wasn’t stupid. Not at all. Gerard was just a dick. He wanted to hiss something back, throw some angry words at his lover, but he knew he couldn’t, because Gerard was holding a loaded fucking gun and Frank didn’t want it pointed at him any faster than it normally would be.

Gerard turned fully to look at Frank, tilting his head mockingly as a mischievous grin slid across his face. His eyes were wide and alight, flooded with devilment.  

“Open your mouth.” Gerard said, silently daring Frank to disobey with his eyes. “I’m going to play with you for a while.”

“Oh, _fuck, no._ No, you’re fuckin’ not.” Frank immediately expressed his distaste. He knew what Gerard wanted, and he really didn’t want to let him have it. Frank didn’t want that fucking gun anywhere near his mouth, much less _in it._

“Open your fucking mouth,” Gerard snapped, “Or I’ll fucking force it open.”

He advanced towards Frank menacingly and Frank hurriedly shook his head, trying to stand his ground. He was beginning to regret it when Gerard huffed and began to stalk towards him, his fingers twitching. Frank’s heart skipped a beat as he watched Gerard’s finger barely miss the trigger. He had to be really careful, Frank knew that, but for some reason he couldn’t reel in his attitude.

Frank didn’t doubt that Gerard would fire the gun to scare him. There was also the simmering fear that Gerard would actually shoot him. Probably not anywhere vital, and Gerard knew how to remove a bullet and wouldn’t let him lose a lot of blood, so Frank wouldn’t bleed out or lose a fucking limb or something, but it _would_ hurt like a bitch. Frank didn’t truly believe Gerard would _kill_ him, not on purpose, but the feral look in his boyfriend’s eyes and the way his hands were twitching around the grip made Frank seriously concerned about letting Gerard stuff that thing down his throat.

“I’m going to give you one more chance to listen to me,” Gerard growled, scowling down at Frank. All Frank could do was stare at the gun, dangling loosely from Gerard’s thumb and pointer finger. “Open. Your. Mouth.”

Frank didn’t mean to say it. He really didn’t. His brain was screaming at him to just comply, to not make things worse, but part of him didn’t want to listen. That tiny, tiny part of him that hated being told what to do, that always wanted to do the exact _opposite_ of what he was told, that part of him was a really bad trait to have around Gerard. It clashed violently with the other man’s characteristics, and never ended well. Because of this little part, and despite knowing that it was going to end horrifically, Frank tore his eyes from the gun and fixed them on Gerard’s.

“ _No._ ” Frank said, loud and clear.

Gerard’s eyes narrowed, glinting with anger as his jaw set firmly.

“You really are a fucking idiot.”

Before Frank could so much as blink, Gerard was lunging, shoving Frank back against the mattress as he covered his body with his own. Frank could see the gun fall on the bed beside him, landing far too close to Frank’s head for comfort. Out of reach, but it’s not like he could have done much with it anyway. He couldn’t exactly _shoot_ Gerard, and if he threatened Gerard with it things would end up going from bad to even worse. Fuck, if he tried that, Frank would _definitely_ end up getting shot.

“I fuckin’ told you to open your dirty fucking mouth,” Gerard spat out as he sat back to straddle Frank. Frank didn’t dare grab at him. “And you wouldn’t, because you always have to act like a disobedient fucking _whore.”_

Frank didn’t have any time to speak before a hand was around his neck, fingers squeezing around his throat. Gerard wasn’t actually choking him yet, and Frank could still breathe, but he knew the threat was there. While one hand rested on Frank’s throat, Gerard’s other snaked up to Frank’s mouth and he forcefully pushed his finger past Frank’s lips. His fingertip almost instantly slammed against Frank’s teeth, the younger clamping his jaw tight as he ground his molars together. Gerard grunted out an unhappy noise before his grip around Frank’s throat tightened. On instinct, Frank choked, his mouth opening and desperately gulping for air. Gerard took the opportunity, jamming his fingers down Frank’s throat and smiling giddily as it convulsed in protest.

“You know what happens to disobedient whores, Frankie.” Gerard murmured as he stared down at his lover, violence dancing behind his eyes. Frank wheezed and gagged when Gerard clenched his fingers. Gerard shuddered when he felt Frank accidentally bite down on his knuckles, a pleasant smile spreading on his face as his eyes fluttered closed. In a single moment of clarity, Frank couldn’t help but admire the dramatic shadows that Gerard’s lashes cast on his cheeks. They drew the attention away from the dark circles under Gerard’s eyes for a few seconds, making him seem a little less scary in that moment. It made his beautiful features seem almost, almost innocent.

Soon that clarity disappeared and Frank was consciously begging for air again; the moment fleeing when Gerard’s eyes blinked open and Frank once again found himself the victim of a harsh glare, courtesy of Gerard’s violent eyes.

“I hate that I always hayve to hurt you, Frankie.” Gerard began softly. If Gerard didn’t currently have his fingers down Frank’s throat, and he wasn’t being deprived of oxygen, Frank was sure he would have chuckled. Gerard didn’t _hate_ hurting him. Sure, Frank knew that Gerard tended to feel a little guilty once he was done, but he didn’t _hate_ it. Hell, Gerard quite literally _got off on it._ He hated _nothing_ about it. It was just mindless talking. Frank thought that Gerard was perhaps still partially trapped in his thoughts, unaware of what he was babbling. Frank didn’t really mind, though. It would have been almost endearing, if Gerard didn’t have his fingers shoved down Frank’s throat and Frank’s eyes weren’t starting to water.

“But you always break the rules,” Gerard continued, “And I always have to do something about it.”

Gerard tugged his brows together, a sad frown settling on his face. His eyes lacked any of the usual signs of anger, but Frank knew better than to trust that. It would return soon, and it would return violently.

“Oh, darling. You’re astounding when you behave. A true blessing.” Gerard mused quietly. He was talking as if he wasn’t currently cutting off Frank’s air, as if Frank wasn’t choking and gagging around his fingers and begging Gerard with his eyes. A lopsided smile blossomed on Gerard’s face, adoration warm in his eyes as he gazed lovingly at Frank. His smile grew when Frank gagged again, saliva dripping from the corners of his mouth and down his chin. Gerard gave a small giggle before slipping his fingers out. Frank sputtered and gasped for what little air he could with Gerard still pressing down on his burning throat. Gerard raised an eyebrow, shooting a playful smile at him when Frank let out a pathetic noise.

“Here,” he said softly, removing his hand from Frank’s throat. “I don’t want to strangle you.”

Frank immediately sucked in a gulp of air, throwing his head back across the mattress and staring at the ceiling as he tried to regain his breath.

Gerard shook his head fondly, another laugh bubbling up from his chest. “I’d never want to do that, especially after I said you were a blessing when you behaved. But, if I’m being honest, you’re always a blessing.” He hummed as he brought his hand up to brush Frank’s hair back from his face.

Frank breathed out a uneven laugh, forcing a tiny grin to tug at his lips. Nothing about this was funny. Nothing at all. Gerard was going to snap back any second. Despite knowing that, Frank couldn’t help but let his eyes flutter closed at the tenderness of Gerard’s touch, needing that moment to gather himself. His breathing was slowly returning to normal, and his heartbeat was slowing to a more reasonable pace again.

Unsurprisingly, Frank wasn’t free for much longer. He knew what was going to happen when he felt the bed dip slightly. He knew, but he just wasn’t fast enough to stop his jaw being forced open again and the cold barrel of the gun being shoved past his lips.

“But even the best of us make mistakes - including you.” Gerard chuckled again, though it didn’t seem so sweet to Frank anymore. “Hell, including me, too. But it’s okay. I’m here to help you learn.”

 _Help you learn?_ Frank didn’t need to learn. Well, maybe he did if he didn’t want to end up bruised and broken, but... this was too much. The fucking gun was _way_ too much. But Frank wasn’t currently in a position where he could object - he couldn’t speak, and he knew if he grabbed at Gerard, or the gun, then Gerard would not react well.

“Let me tell you how this is going to go,” Gerard murmured, narrowing his eyes at Frank as a warning before withdrawing the barrel from his mouth. Frank gasped as soon as it was out of the way, thankful for a short moment even though he knew something bad was going to happen after this.

“Don’t talk, Frankie.” Gerard quickly added when Frank opened his mouth. Despite his attitude, Gerard was still being strangely kind, in his own way. Frank closed his mouth, and waited.

“So,” Gerard began cheerily, smiling at Frank, “I’m going to cut you up some more.”

For obvious reasons, Frank didn’t return the smile. He tried to remain straight-faced, but something must have slipped through because Gerard’s smile twisted, just a little.

“Oh, don’t look so sad, Frankie. It’s a fun game.” He leaned back, putting more weight on Frank’s hips as he straddled him.

Frank wanted to vomit from the nerves right there and then. A fun game? _A fun game?_ Oh, no. This wasn’t going to be fun. Not at all.

“So, like I said, I’m gonna mess you up a little, and then I’m gonna play around with the cuts. And you can’t make a single sound! Like...Russian Roulette. Except you’re the only player, and the gun is in your mouth.” Gerard spoke so lightly, sounded so matter-of-fact and sure and so very _not disturbed_ by what he was saying, that Frank wanted to fucking cry. Play with the cuts? A fucking gun in his fucking _mouth_?

“You wouldn’t.” Frank whispered, bracing himself up on his elbows as Gerard climbed off him to kneel at their bedside table. He set the gun down of the floor and yanked the bottom drawer open, quickly beginning to rummage through it. The drawer where he kept some of his playtime knives.

“You know I would,” Gerard replied, almost offhandedly and barely sparing Frank a glance, like he wasn’t even a little bit worried Frank would try and bolt, or make a move for the gun.

In the end, Frank did neither.

Metal clattered and clinked, delicate and terrifying. Frank couldn’t stop the whimper that stole from his throat.

“Should I start on your chest, or your thighs? Maybe on your sides?” Gerard mused before his hands stopped moving and he chuckled menacingly. “Hey, you remember this?”

Frank watched as Gerard pulled a familiar item from the drawer. Yes, he did remember it. He did remember the knife that glinted slightly in the lamp light. It was what Gerard had used to cut up his back. It was the one he’d used not too long ago to mark his claim. To carve his name into Frank’s back.

“Yeah,” Frank swallowed hard, his fingers clenching around the comforter. “I do.”

“I think I’ll use this one.” Gerard skimmed his thumb lovingly over the handle. He gazed down at the razor-sharp blade with a smile. God, he looked like he was having so much _fun_. What the actual fuck was wrong with him?

“What should I draw this time?” Gerard hummed thoughtfully, caught up in the madness of his own mind for a moment. Then, he turned to look at Frank, and his gaze sharpened.

“Turn over.”

Powerless to disobey when Gerard was looking at him like that, Frank did as he was told. Gerard made a soft, pleased sound.

“So beautiful when you’re obedient,” he murmured, almost to himself, and Frank startled when he felt fingers dancing along his bare arm. Gerard chuckled. “Jumpy, Frankie?”

Frank’s stomach roiled dangerously, the nervous anticipation making his hair stand on end. The bed dipped again as Gerard climbed back on top of him, settling his weight firmly across Frank’s hips, and he set the knife down next to Frank’s cheek. It was a taunt, Frank realized, the weapon close enough for him to take and do some real damage with, if he wanted to.

Except Gerard knew just as well as Frank did, that he didn’t really want to do anything of the sort. Gerard was calmly brandishing his power and letting Frank know that however much he yelled and spat and screamed, really, deep down, underneath everything that kept him together and sane and human, part of him _wanted_ to be treated this way. Gerard put Frank’s escape right there, gun on one side, knife on the other, so close he could taste it, knowing that whatever Gerard did to him, Frank wouldn’t make the slightest move for it.

Frank was starting to feel sick. Gerard had promised to cut him up a little. A _little_ . With Gerard, that could mean just about anything. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad; maybe he was saving the really crazy stuff for later, for- no, he couldn’t even think the kid’s name, not right now. He really _would_ be sick, and then Gerard would have a fucking field day with him. Maybe it would be quick, at least.

Or maybe not.

Gerard’s fingers appeared in Frank’s peripheral vision, stroking along the heavy handle before he picked it up. Frank’s gasp stuck in his throat. _Fuck_ . Who the fuck was he kidding, Gerard didn’t know _how_ to go easy on someone. That’s what made him a fucking sociopath. Frank fought to keep breathing evenly as he felt the tip of the knife against his neck. It would be so easy for Gerard to press down, to slide the tip all the way through Frank’s neck and out the other side into the mattress while Frank laid there not moving a muscle, doing nothing to stop his beloved boyfriend from killing him. Maybe he’d bleed out into the sheets before he suffocated. Maybe Gerard would smile that gorgeous, contented little smile Frank snuck glimpses of every now and then after a really good kill. Maybe he’d be sad. Maybe he’d keep Frank around for a while for company.

Frank squeezed his eyes shut, but that didn’t do much to quiet his imagination. Fuck, why wasn’t Gerard _doing_ anything? He just sat there, trailing the blade across Frank’s neck, over and over again while Frank’s mind went into overdrive.

Gerard’s weight shifted, leaning forward, and Frank tensed underneath him as the knife pressed deeper into his skin.

“So uptight, baby,” Gerard whispered, his breath ghosting across Frank’s ear. Frank shuddered, his body honing in on the feel of Gerard’s mouth so close by but the terror of having a fucking knife to his neck keeping anything else at bay. “I’ve barely touched you.”

Frank let out an uneven breath and turned his head, burying his face in the bed sheets.

“No.” Gerard said firmly, anger lacing his tone. Fingers tangled in Frank’s hair and yanked his head back, twisting it painfully to one side before Gerard pressed him back down. “This is your own fault. You don’t get to hide from me.”

Frank whimpered softly, squeezing his eyes shut as Gerard yanked on his hair again. This _was_ his fault. This was happening because he deliberately disobeyed Gerard. He _knew_ Gerard would be upset with him, and he did it anyway, even knowing it wouldn’t do any good. He _deserved this._ He didn’t have the right to cry. This was all his fault, and he knew he had to take it.

“I’m sorry.” Frank choked out. He was breathing heavily, his bottom lip trembling as fear made his head swim. “Fuck, I’m really sorry, Gerard. I’m so sorry.”

Gerard scoffed. “You’re going to have to do better than that, Darling.”

“Please, Gerard,” Frank begged, “We don’t have to do this. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have talked to him, I’m sorry, baby. Please don’t. Please. I don’t want this.”

Gerard hummed quietly, almost like he was considering it. Then he laughed, heavy and cruel, and sliced straight down Frank’s back, cutting through fabric and skin. Frank shrieked and arched away, but Gerard’s hand came down on the back of his neck, reminding him of the deal here. “It doesn’t matter if you don’t want this. You don’t have a say in this.”

Frank wanted to make a lot of sounds at that moment. He wanted to cry, scream, argue. He wanted to say _something_. But he fucking couldn’t, and it just made everything worse. He squeezed his eyes shut, forcing himself to remember to bite his tongue.

 _You can’t make a single sound_.

“Oh, baby,” Gerard purred against Frank’s earlobe, “It’s like you’re not even trying. It’s like you _want_ this.”

Frank shook his head vehemently, biting his tongue against the pleas that wanted to spill from his mouth. He twisted further, ignoring the burn all the way from his shoulders to the small of his back, and looked up at Gerard with pleading eyes, silently, desperately begging him to stop.

Then Gerard met his gaze, and Frank knew he’d missed his chance.

Gerard’s lips curled in a poor facsimile of a smile, his pupils so dilated his eyes looked black. Any trace of affection or mercy there might have been before was long gone, chased away by the madness in Gerard’s soul.

 _Fuck_.

“I love these,” Gerard said lightly, trailing his knife over the lines of Frank’s tattoos. “You’re like a piece of art. All these thoughts and memories-” His voice dipped and took on a dark, foreboding tone, “-carved into your skin.”

Frank shuddered, and felt the blade catch, drawing blood. He hissed in pain, and Gerard chuckled above him.

“See, my darling?” he said softly. “You just can’t wait for me to slice you up, to leave my mark all over you and show you who you really belong to.”

Frank clenched his fists in the sheets, trying desperately to calm his racing heart. He wanted to tell Gerard that he already knew who he belonged to. That he already knew that Gerard owned him.

“I could do anything to you right now,” Gerard mused, oblivious or unsympathetic to Frank’s feelings. “Anything I wanted. And you wouldn’t do anything about it, would you, sweetheart?”

When he paused, the silence heavy, Frank quickly swallowed around the tightness in his throat and shook his head.

“No,” Gerard continued, the smile evident in his voice, “You wouldn’t. Because that messed up little part of you that fell in love with me loves _this_ too.”

Frank shook his head again, biting down on his tongue so hard it was almost numb.

Gerard just laughed, and the sound chilled Frank to his very bones. “And that’s good, Frank. That’s really good. Fuck, that’s _great.”_ He hummed, pressing down a little harder. Frank whimpered, biting the inside of his cheek as he struggled to keep quiet.

“I know what’s really in your heart, Frankie,” he whispered into the back of Frank’s neck. “You try and hide it, but I can see the darkness inside of you. Why do you think I haven’t killed you yet? I can see who you really are every time I look into those beautiful eyes.”

Frank whined and sucked in another shaking breath, feeling the hysteria building in the pit of his stomach. He needed Gerard to hurry and do whatever it was he was going to put him through today, because otherwise Frank felt like he might hyperventilate and pass out. Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing in the short term, but Frank couldn’t even bring himself to consider the long term repercussions. Anyway, Gerard would probably just force him to wake up...

He tried to block out Gerard’s voice, to focus on the feel of the bed underneath him and the pleasant weight across his hips, but Gerard was still talking, talking, and Frank _couldn’t_ , like somehow he was wired into Gerard’s voice, couldn’t stop himself paying attention all the goddamn time.

Gerard’s weight shifted, and Frank felt fingers then the knife against his thighs and moving down.

“You know, I’ve always loved these, too.” Gerard pressed the blunt edge of the knife against his legs, his voice warm and sure. “And I’ve always loved that tender spot right behind someone’s knee, where the skin is so soft and you can feel the blood pulsing underneath.”

The blade paused in that very spot behind Frank’s knee.

“I could cut, just here.” Gerard contemplated. “Slice right through the tendons on both of your legs. Keep you right here, exactly where I like seeing you the most. My own little puppet.”

Frank choked on the air he couldn’t quite inhale, and Gerard shifted back around. He brushed the hair away from Frank’s neck before the soft pads of his fingers traced over the letters hidden there, so slowly, one at a time. Frank’s skin prickled beneath the touch, his every nerve ending on high alert. Gerard’s fingers smoothed down over the pumpkin and pressed into every notch on Frank’s spine until they reached the s curling around his hips and he felt the tip of the knife begin to follow the same path.

“I could cut around every bright, beautiful tattoo you have, follow all these black lines with my knife-” Gerard told him, smile curling through his voice like he was picturing how it would look, “-and add some nice little scars around them. Some texture. Of course, I _could_ cut them out.” He mused.

 _He wouldn’t, he wouldn’t, fuck. Would he?_ Frank couldn’t get enough air in to stop his head swimming. Gerard let his weight rest more firmly on Frank’s back, and dimly Frank realized he could feel just how much Gerard was enjoying his little game.

“Oh sweetheart, when I close my eyes at night, you should see the dreams I have.” Gerard sighed. “All the things I want to do to you, my heart’s deepest, most sordid desires right there for the taking, night after night. Oh Frank,” he spoke softly, “You have no idea what I could do to you given half the chance.”

Frank didn’t. He couldn’t even think about it.

“But then I wake up.” Gerard said, climbing off Frank’s body and kneeling next to him on the bed. “And I don’t do those things I imagine doing in the dark to you. Do you know why, Frankie?”

Frank shook his head, and Gerard leaned down until they were almost nose-to-nose.

“Because you can’t play with something if it’s broken.”

Frank stifled a whimper, and Gerard bared his teeth in a grin. His eyes sparkled, and the excitement in them shook Frank to the core.

“That hasn’t stopped you before.” Frank groaned as Gerard suddenly put more of his weight on him. God, this fucking _sucked._

Gerard sighed dramatically, shaking his head with a roll of his eyes. “You’re not broken, though. Just a little damaged.” He objected. He sounded more pissed off now and Frank spat out a muffled curse into the covers. He shouldn’t have said anything to him. He should have just kept his fucking mouth shut like he was doing before. “And, most of the time, you can fix what is damaged.”

The truth was, that Gerard _couldn't_ fix him. He could bandage and stitch him up all he wanted, but Frank could never truly be fixed. Frank was spiraling down and there wasn’t a way back up. Frank just kept sinking lower and lower. Gerard couldn’t fix that, and even if he could, Frank doubted that he would choose to. Hell, Gerard would probably just make things more fucked up than usual. Frank wasn’t an idiot. He knew Gerard was obviously capable of doing much worse things, and Frank had no doubt in his mind that he would gladly do so if he had a reason to. Shit, who was he kidding. Gerard would probably do it even _without_ a reason.  

“Now, I’m going to give you instructions and you’re going to follow _all_ of them, or I’ll tear your fuckin’ arms open. You understand that?”

Frank didn’t answer, mostly because he _couldn’t_ answer. He just couldn’t force the words out of him. He couldn’t get anything out except a pathetic little groan. Gerard muttered something angrily, though it was too low for Frank to understand. But he knew it was bad. He knew because almost _everything_ was bad. So he squeezed his eyes shut and prepared himself for whatever terrible thing Gerard was going to do to him. Except it never came.

“Frank,” He sighed crudely. “I really thought you’d do better than that. I know you can, so I’ll give you one more chance. I’ll be kind and repeat myself. I said, _do you understand?”_ Gerard questioned again. He sounded a lot more threatening than before, which Frank didn’t really think was possible. He wished it wasn’t, because _fuck_ , he really hated that voice.

“Yes.” He panted out. “Fuck, okay. Yeah, I understand you.”

Gerard hummed in approval, smiling proudly. “Good boy. Sit up.”

Slowly and on half-numb limbs, Frank rolled onto his back and pushed himself into a kneeling position.

“Pick up the gun.”

Frank’s eyes flew to Gerard’s, wide and panicked. _What?_

Gerard smile turned cruel and twisted. It made Frank feel physically sick, like he might hurl at any moment.

“Pick up the gun. Don’t make me ask you again.”

Fuck, fuck, _fuck_.

Frank wanted to tell Gerard no so badly. He wanted to plead for him to get off of him and put the gun away. But he knew it wasn’t going to happen. So, with shaking hands, Frank picked it up, and immediately felt like he was going to be sick. It was heavier than it looked, almost slipping from Frank’s fumbling hands before he got a secure hold on it. He glanced up at Gerard, then back down at the gun , awkward and bulky in his hands.

“Good boy,” Gerard said smoothly. “Now… Put it in your mouth.”

Frank froze. Oh, _god no._ He thought they had abandoned that idea. Frank dumbly thought he had managed to escape that game. But of course he hadn’t. Gerard didn’t give up on games. Unless Frank was freaking out, he _never_ gave up. He chased his sick idea of victory until he won. Gerard _hated_ losing. He hated it so much that he would do anything and everything to get what he wanted. Even if that meant killing somebody.

Gerard frowned, and Frank realized he’d said _no_ out loud. His gaze hardened, steel creeping in around the edges.

“Put it in your mouth, Frank.” He repeated firmly. “Now. You told me you understood me, so what the fuck is this? Are you actually stupid enough to go against me in this position?” Gerard didn’t even wait for answer before he spoke again. “No, you’re not. So don’t fucking act like a dumb whore and just do what you’re told.”

 _Just do it and it’ll be over faster,_ Frank told himself. Now wasn’t the time to rebel. Now was the time to bite his tongue and do what Gerard wanted. Slowly, so, so slowly, Frank forced himself to lift the gun, ignoring every part of his brain and body that screamed at him to stop. He didn’t have a choice. This was the only way, to do as Gerard said and take whatever punishment Gerard wanted to dole out. He’d gotten himself into this mess by trying to warn Louis, and long before that even, by falling for a madman.

But fuck, Frank couldn’t help but think he was in over his head this time.

Frank started to shake so badly that he could hardly move. He stared at Gerard, silently pleading with him to stop this, but Gerard only looked right back at him with an icy calm expression.

“Please, Gerard,” he begged, voice cracking as his tears started to form in the corners of his eyes, “Please don’t make me do this, please. Anything else, anything you want, _please_ , Gee.”

Once again, Frank’s words did nothing but anger him. Frank watched as Gerard’s face changed, his blood now running icy. “ _Frank_ ,” Gerard snarled, face twisting, contorting into something horrific, “Put the _fucking_ gun in your _fucking_ mouth.”

Frank opened his mouth, and a sob escaped before he could stop it. The metal stretched his jaw out, cold, heavy and unforgiving against his tongue, and as Frank squeezed his eyes shut, he felt himself start to cry.

“Good, very good, Frank,” Gerard purred, without a trace of that animalistic fury Frank had glimpsed before. “Now, we’re going to play a game.”

He picked up the knife from where it had been resting innocently between them, holding it loosely in his hand. Frank tasted salt around the metallic tang of the gun between his lips.

“Remember what I said before? I’m going to cut you up, make you all pretty. And every time I do, my gorgeous boy, you’re going to pull the trigger.”

Frank whimpered around the barrel, the sound coming from deep in his throat. Once he’d made it, he found he couldn’t stop, a constant, panicked stream of _nuh-uh, nuh-uh_ , shoulders shaking with the force of his sobs _._ This was fucking crazy. Frank could take a lot. He really could. He could take getting his head smashed into things, being cut, being _beaten,_ but he could _not_ fucking handle a firearm.

“You will,” Gerard said resolutely, “Because you’re smart, Frank, and you don’t want to find out just how much worse I can be.”

Fuck, no, he didn’t.

Gerard smirked when Frank’s body shook, a weak sob sneaking past the gun in his mouth. Frank looked so _pathetic_ like this. His shoulders were shaking as he gazed pleadingly at Gerard, the spit he couldn’t swallow all over his chin, cheeks red and wet with tears. Gerard’s tongue swooped across his bottom lip as his took it all in. Frank looked _heavenly._

Gerard shifted on the bed, settling across Frank’s ankles and brushing the shaggy ends of Frank’s hair to one side. Frank could feel his body shaking uncontrollably under Gerard’s fingertips but there was nothing he could do to stop it. Luckily Gerard didn’t berate him for it. Fuck, he was probably _enjoying_ such a tangible display of Frank’s gut-wrenching fear.

“Beautiful.” Gerard’s voice ghosted across the shell of Frank’s ear, and Frank only shook harder.

Before Frank was ready for it - not that he’d _ever_ be ready for it - Gerard was pressing the knife in, drawing it down and around the outside of the pumpkin inked across Frank’s shoulders. He wasn’t messing around either. The knife was so firm against his skin that he was sure that it would just break right through him completely. Frank cried out, the sound muffled by the horrific hunk of metal stuffed in his mouth, as the blade sliced through his skin and the cut went on and on and fucking _on_ , like Gerard had forgotten he wasn’t using a brush on canvas.

Then, almost as quickly as Gerard had begun, he stopped. Frank felt the wound pulse and throb excruciatingly as blood welled from it and Gerard dipped his fingers in with a soft, pleased sigh.

“Well?” Gerard murmured, half entranced by the beauty of Frank’s blood. When Frank didn’t move, he dug his fingers into the wound, and Frank shouted in pain.

“ _Well?_ ” He repeated. Frank sobbed again, the sound torn from his raw throat, and shook his head, sniffling and crying and choking as tears and mucus dripped into his mouth. He felt so _disgusting_ in that moment. And it wasn’t the good kind of disgusting, the kind of disgusting he felt when Gerard fucked him in the woods or spread his come all over Frank’s face and left it to dry. It wasn’t _fun_ this time.

“Do it.” Gerard hissed viciously, pressing harder and drawing more blood. The knife dropped to the bed and he tangled his other hand in Frank’s hair, yanking his neck back with a twist. “Or do you want to find out how much harder I can make this for you, pretty boy?”

Fuck, he _knew_ he had gone too far. He knew that there was no getting out of this. He knew that this was going to bring out the ugly side in Gerard, but he never thought it’d be _this_ ugly.

Frank couldn’t breathe. His hands slipped and fumbled around the grip of the gun, his palms soaked with sweat. Eventually, he got two trembling fingers slid into place.

“ _Now._ ” Gerard hissed. Frank didn’t want to do it, he really, _really_ fucking didn’t, but his body made the decision for him, almost like he’d been conditioned to do Gerard’s bidding.

Frank closed his eyes and squeezed the trigger.

The chamber clicked.

From somewhere outside himself, Frank heard Gerard chuckle with delight.

“Still with me, sugar?” Gerard whispered, grin evident in the sound of his voice. “Oh, I guess there wasn’t a bullet in that slot.”

The realization that he was still alive, and that it wasn’t fucking _over_ made Frank start to cry harder. It was almost _worse_ with his relief. He wished that he didn’t believe it would make the moment that the bullet was shot _so much worse._ He was happy about living during a situation where he was probably going to die. Which was _fucked._

“Y’know,” Gerard said conversationally, touching the tip of the knife to the guns low on Frank’s back, “That’s a .45 caliber Glock 21 you’re holding in your mouth for me. It comes with a 13-bullet magazine.”

The knife dipped below the waistband of Frank’s jeans.

“Whaddya say, baby?” Frank felt him lean closer, Gerard’s tongue and teeth against his ear. “How many rounds do you think you have in you?”

Frank didn’t know, and he didn’t really want to find out.

* * *

It turned out Frank had more in him than he thought.

What was almost more terrifying was the realization that he had started to become accustomed to this type of fear, and that just wasn’t fucking _natural_ . Frank was _used_ to terrible things happening to him, he was _used_ to being in life or death situations. He was practically _complacent_ to almost fucking _dying._

Eleven times, Frank had pulled the trigger that night.

Eleven times, Frank had consciously put his life on the line. Eleven times, Frank had fired a deadly weapon. Eleven times, Frank had almost killed himself. All for this sick fucking game Gerard was playing with him. Frank was done. He was shaking and crying and choking and he was fucking _done_ . He just wanted it to all _stop,_ and he wanted it to stop _now_.

But he still had one round left.

Frank wasn’t sure why the gun hadn’t put him out of his misery yet. There was no way Gerard would play with an empty gun. It kind of defeated the purpose

He felt the knife dance over his skin one more time, around his hip and down to his swallows. Sometime between eight and nine, Gerard had gotten tired of Frank’s back and decided to get started on his chest and stomach instead. The blade followed the curve a wing until it reached the tip of the _A,_ then Gerard started to cut.

_Oh, God._

He followed the lines, carving the word _And_ into Frank’s stomach. It was deep; deep enough that the scars would deface the dark lines of his tattoo forever, if they ever had the chance to heal. If this wasn’t the end of the line for Frank. Frank swallowed a groan of pain, his stomach warm under the spill of blood, and braced himself for the last time.

The trigger was smooth under his fingers, jaw aching and sore in a way that, before today, he’d only ever associated with giving a really good blowjob and that time Gerard had forced a gag in his mouth. Frank focused on the sound of Gerard’s easy, even breaths, the familiar sting and burn of the blade, and closed his eyes.

But he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t pull the trigger one more time. As much Frank had thought he was done and finished, couldn’t do it anymore, he still couldn’t bring himself to shoot himself in the fucking head.

Gerard chuckled, low and filthy, and a shudder wracked Frank’s body. His hands trembled harder, the terror he had mistakenly started to believe he’d grown accustomed to ratcheting up to eleven. Frank’s chest tightened to dangerous levels and his pulse skyrocketed, his fear all but consuming him as Gerard’s fingers curled around the grip of the gun, gently moving Frank’s trembling hands one at a time to rest on his knees while holding the gun steady in his mouth.

“Last one,” Gerard murmured, sliding his finger over the trigger and curling his free hand around Frank’s jaw. “Fuck, you’re beautiful like this.” Gerard traced one fingertip through the trails of Frank’s tears, then brought it to his mouth.

Was this it? Frank had always been so sure Gerard wouldn’t kill him; amongst all the madness that was his life since Gerard entered it, that had always been the one thing that Frank could be sure of. Had Gerard finally tired of him? It did make a sick kind of sense. Gerard didn’t like using guns during his kills because it was over too quickly, too impersonally. But that was when he was killing strangers. He had _history_ with Frank. Maybe he couldn’t bring himself to treat Frank in the same way, maybe he _wanted_ something quick and impersonal. Frank had gotten in the middle of one of his favorite things, and for that Gerard wanted him dead.

As he watched Gerard swiping his tongue over the pad of his finger, tasting Frank’s literal tears of pain, he realized with a whimper that it wouldn’t be so out of character for Gerard to kill him,

Frank had suspected the end of his life wouldn’t be the prettiest, knew he’d damned himself as soon as he’d admitted to Gerard that he loved him. But he never thought Gerard would actually _kill_ him. The younger, more vulnerable Frank wouldn’t have doubted it, but he was older now and he had been with Gerard for long enough to believe Gerard had formed at least _some_ type of connection to him, something strong enough to save his ass if Gerard ever really lost it. Frank had assumed that, because of how possessive Gerard was towards him, he was safe. Apparently he’d assumed wrong. Gerard wasn’t possessive - he was selfish, and wanted Frank just for the sake of having him.

Did Frank really mean so little to him after all?

Frank didn’t believe in any god, but at that moment he found himself silently praying, reaching out to anything that could help him. Maybe Gerard would have one of his really extreme mood swings and end this. Despite knowing chances of that happening were ludicrously thin, he was a little disheartened when nothing miraculous happened.

Gerard shifted, pressing the gun down on Frank’s tongue. He was so close that even shaking terribly, through vision blurred with tears, Frank could count Gerard’s eyelashes. Gerard’s eyes shone as he gazed into Frank’s eyes, bright with that delirious, adrenaline-fueled spark that had tipped Frank head over heels so long ago. Oh God, what had his desire and curiosity gotten him into? If only he’d known about Gerard from the start, if only he’d been able to see the destructive insanity lurking inside his boyfriend’s heart, then maybe, maybe…

Maybe what? Maybe he could have stayed away? The thought would have made him scoff if he could. Frank was _attracted_ to the danger, and he had _always_ been attracted to Gerard. No matter what, regardless of the expected outcome, he would have wanted Gerard in his life. It was always going to end this way.

“Ready, baby?” Gerard asked, grinning maniacally. Wide-eyed, Frank shook his head frantically with a tiny, animalistic whine.

“I think you are,” Gerard purred, stroking a hand over Frank’s cheek tenderly. “Remember, Frankie? You _want_ this.”

No, he didn’t want this. He really fucking _didn’t._ But did Gerard care? No. Gerard _never_ fucking cared what Frank wanted.

 _“_ We’re going to do something a little different this time…” Gerard announced. Frank groaned loudly. God, things were literally just going to get worse. He was going to just find something even _more_ painful. Fucking great. “This time,” Gerard continued with an excited smile. “I’m going to be pushing the knife _into_ you, instead of cutting. How does that sounds, Frankie? I’ll almost be stabbing you.”

_Oh, fuck._

“Gerard, no. No, no, no. Don’t you fucking -” Frank tried to spit out from behind the gun, but he ended up cutting himself off with a loud whine when a painful prickling sensation stemmed from his stomach. Gerard had dug the knife into one of Frank’s cuts, and even though he had hardly added any pressure, it hurt like a _bitch. What the fuck._

Frank watched as Gerard’s eyes fluttered closed, a grin stretching on his face as he giggled. The laugh sounded so _innocent,_ and it drove Frank crazy because Gerard wasn’t fucking innocent.

“Oh, Frankie,” he whispered, laughing once more before opening his eyes and staring down at Frank. Frank almost wished that he had kept his eyes closed. There was something sinister in his bright orbs, and it made Frank choke out another sob. God, he was _fucked._

“Frankie, darling.” Gerard cooed as he moved the knife down again. Frank choked out another pathetic sob as the worst pain possible flooded his senses. “You should know by now that I can do _whatever the fuck I want to.”_ Gerard ground out between his suddenly gritted teeth.

Frank didn’t even have time to think of a response before Gerard was speaking again. “Now we’re going to do this, and you don’t have a single fucking say in it.”

And then he was thrusting the knife down harshly, a wicked grin spreading on his face as he watched Frank. Frank caught the sound right before it was ripped from him. He wanted to scream. It hurt so fucking bad and he wanted nothing but for it to stop.

“Come on, Frankie. Tell me how it feels. Let me hear you.” Gerard taunted as he leaned forward, shoving the knife down a little harder. Frank choked around the gun as he forced himself to stay quiet. Gerard’s eyes narrowed and Frank’s heart nearly burst out of his chest. He was obviously getting pissed that Frank wasn’t making any noise. But Frank knew he couldn’t hold off much longer. Gerard hissed and pressed it down one more time, and that was it for Frank.

Frank whined from deep in his throat, his heart stopping a few seconds after the sound came from him. Oh, no. _Oh, no._ He watched as Gerard’s smile widened, his eyes glimmering with evil. He chuckled throatily and shook his head.

“It looks like you lose. Come on, Frank. You know the drill.” Gerard kept the knife as it was, almost as if he was threatening Frank, telling him he wasn’t afraid to use it again if Frank didn’t do as he was told. “ _Pull the fucking_ _trigger_.”

Frank couldn’t.

“Do it, before I fucking stab you and then pull the fucking thing myself.” Gerard snapped, his knuckles turning white around the handle of the knife. “Don’t test me, Frank. You know the repercussions.”

Except Frank _didn’t._ He was used to being beaten, cut, locked up somewhere for hours at a time. Yeah, he got that. But Gerard was so fucking erratic, especially right now, how could Frank truly know what he was about to do? Gerard wasn’t at all repetitive or predictable.

So, with another mangled sob, he pressed down on the trigger.

 


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank really doesn't know how much more he can take.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a warning, this is incredibly fucked up. It's probably on the edge of passing terror with how messed up it actually is. There's a lot of triggering themes in this so I'd like to give a quick warning so we don't accidentally trigger anybody with anything :) Part three has already been started and will be up a lot faster than this took. We were both just very busy and didn't really have much time to work on think, especially since I've been working on other stuff and actually have started to write a legitimate book. This is tagged non con but Frank does end up consenting. It’s just there as a warning because the beginning is pretty bad.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy xx

__Frank’s pulse roared so loudly in his ears it drowned out everything else. The moment stretched on, and on, and _on,_ until a sickening realization settled in the pit of Frank’s stomach.

 _He was still alive_.

The gun was empty.

The gun was fucking _empty._ The _whole fucking time_.

Bitter disappointment warred inside him with all-encompassing relief, creeping up his spine and churning in his gut.

Frank dropped the gun like it burned, and a choked cry spilled from his throat as the dam burst within him. Collapsing forwards onto the bed, Frank cried. Hideous, gut-wrenching sobs wracked his broken body, echoing off the walls and choking in his throat as he bled all over the sheets.

He should have known Gerard would pull some shit like this. The fucking psychopath fed off his fear, so of course he’d do something that scared the shit out of Frank without having to worry about him actually getting hurt.

He had stayed there, shaking and terrified, for Lord knows how long, with a fucking gun in his mouth, only to find out it was harmless, that it was completely _empty_. But along with his budding anger, he obviously couldn’t deny that he felt a lot of relief, even though he knew he’d probably be in danger again pretty soon.

Frank hadn’t truly realized how fucked up their relationship was before. He’d always known it wasn’t healthy and probably abusive, but he could take it, Gerard was worth it. He didn’t think Gerard would ever push him that far before. He couldn’t imagine Gerard was so messed up as to want to shove a fucking gun in his mouth and make him shoot.

Frank couldn’t fucking breathe because he was crying so hard. What the _fuck_.

Then, over his soft, fractured wails, Frank heard Gerard start to laugh.

Gerard was fucking _laughing._ Gerard was laughing at his lover while he cried into the sheets, absolutely _petrified._ Intrusive, impossible thoughts questioning Gerard’s love for him began to rear their ugly heads. Maybe he didn’t. The gun may have been empty, but Gerard obviously didn’t give a shit that he’d fucking broken Frank completely. The only thing left for Frank to assume was that he didn’t care about him as much as he’d always thought.

“Hush, Frankie.” Gerard giggled. Frank flinched when Gerard’s hand slid into his hair, expecting his head to be yanked back again. Instead, he was pleasantly surprised when Gerard started to pet him softly.

“You didn’t think I’d actually let you die, did you?”

_Yes._

“You’re never gonna die, Frankie. You’re never going to leave me. You know that, right? You know that you can never leave?”

Frank knew.

“Oh, Frankie. I love doing this.” Gerard breathed as he turned the knife in the hand that wasn’t touching Frank. “And I know you do, too.”

A violent shudder ripped through Frank and goosebumps prickled his skin as fright flooded him. Gerard began to gently scratch at his skull, but it did nothing but terrify Frank more. He didn’t trust this, not one bit. He knew he was right to when Gerard gazed at him, pride shimmering in his eyes, and slid his hand down to cup Frank’s throat.

“Now it’s time for the rest of it.”

Frank’s response was a pained moan. He couldn’t believe Gerard was going to make him he go through more at this point. How fucking heartless was he? Frank wanted this to end so badly. He was too fucking worn out and just straight up _tired,_ He was exhausted both mentally and physically.

“Oh, come on, Frank. It’ll be _fun.”_

Frank was in unbelievable pain at that moment but he found himself mustering enough strength to rasp, “ _Fun?”_

This wasn’t going to be fucking _fun_ . This was going to be _horrible_ and Frank was going to actually break down. He was going turn into a mess, like he had in basement. But he couldn’t do anything to get out of it. Fuck, he didn’t even think he’d have the strength in his body to push Gerard off him if he decided to try to stop whatever Gerard still had planned for him.

Gerard chuckled, bringing Frank’s attention back to him.

“Yeah, Frankie!” He grinned. “ _Fun._ Lots of it.” He said. Frank didn’t miss the underlying threat in it, or the hint of aggression that was breaking through. Frank began to feel sicker as he realized that Gerard was actually excited, and that he was legitimately upset that Frank wasn’t excited himself for it. Frank knew he couldn’t get out of it. Not like this, not while he was this weak and worn out.

Frank took in a deep breath, whimpering when his body protested the movement, before forcing out a broken, “ _Okay.”_ Even though he didn’t actually have a choice in the matter. Hell, Frank practically had no say in _anything_ anymore _._

A pleased grin spilled over Gerard’s face and he laughed happily.

“Y’know, you’re fantastic when you’re not being a whiny bitch.” He shifted closer and closer to Frank as he spoke. “So remarkable when you actually shut up.”

Frank watched Gerard through dewy eyes as he spoke, his body still shaking. Was he going into shock? He was forcing himself to be quiet in fear that his cries would soon no longer be appealing to Gerard and it’d just be annoying to him.

“For the most part, you’re a good boy.” Gerard’s voice broke through Frank’s fragile thoughts easily. Frank peeked up at Gerard, instantly flinching back when he was met with Gerard’s harsh stare. “Pay attention.” He snapped. Frank quickly muttered an apology, making Gerard roll his eyes.

“ _Anyway,_ I do like it when you behave, but I can’t help but think that our life would be rather boring if we never got to play our favorite game of cat and mouse. I get to play that when you misbehave, Frankie, and I can tell you for sure that I _always_ win.” He breathed, a cocky smile now on his face.

Frank didn’t even have time to form a clear thought before Gerard was speaking again. “I know you’re scared, Frankie, but trust me when I say you’re lucky to have me.”

_What the fuck._

Frank didn’t even know how to respond to Gerard. Lucky to have him? Frank loved Gerard, but sometimes this felt like a fuckin’ curse. It was nice knowing that Frank had somebody to protect him, no matter how fucked up his methods, and it was good knowing that he would always have a faithful partner. Even if Gerard actually couldn’t love him like Frank had suspected, he was still loyal, Frank knew that much. But _this_ \- what was happening _right now_ \- was _monstrous_.

“I mean,” Gerard started again, making Frank’s heart leap from his chest. “Who else is gonna hurt you like I do? Hell, who else _could?_ Nobody knows you like I do, Frankie. Nobody else knows how you like to be hurt. Nobody knows how much of a pain slut you are, and they’ll never know, because you’re all mine and if anyone thinks otherwise, they’re gonna end up six fuckin’ feet deep in the ground.”

Frank paled as the weight of Gerard’s words hit him. He already knew Gerard would kill somebody out of jealousy, of course. He wasn’t blind to Gerard’s nature. But having Gerard remind him now, in such a terrifying and disturbed situation, fucked him up more than usual.

One of Gerard’s hands pressed Frank back down into the mattress, face first, and Frank sighed out, relieved of the respite, however temporary. He felt Gerard’s knife dancing across his tattoos, then his blade dipped into Frank’s flesh like it was butter, so sharp that Frank barely noticed the pressure until it was pulled away and the biting pain followed. Frank cried out into the mattress, dizzy and unfocused, smothering his pain in the comforter, and Gerard chuckled darkly.

There was only one way this was going to go now. The part of Frank that used to fight this had long ago learned to keep its head down, because resisting only made Gerard more angry, more excited, more _creative._ And unless Frank was willing to take him out - which, fuck it all to hell, he wasn’t - he’d have to bear the brunt of that creativity himself. Based on past experience, that was _not_ fucking worth it.

Frank clenched his fists and grit his teeth, then let out a breath and forced his body to relax.

Again and again, Gerard’s knife slid across Frank’s skin in barely-there nicks and slits, following the lines of Frank’s tattoos. He’d trace the ink back and forth, back and forth, until Frank was choking on the anticipation, breath ragged and uneven, before choosing a spot to slice. Sometimes he’d do it quickly, over and over, and other times he would spend so long touching and stroking that Frank would start believing it was over, that Gerard had drawn enough blood to satisfy his cravings. He’d start trying to relax into it and enjoy the gentleness of Gerard’s fingertips, the tickle of the knife blade across his skin. Those were the times when Gerard would drive the blade particularly deep, or carve an especially long line around the curve of Frank’s shoulder blade or down to the dip of his waist.

His entire world had narrowed until there was only Gerard, the knife, and Frank’s prone body.

After the gun, in a completely fucked up kind of way, it was almost peaceful. The smooth line of the blade, the bite as it cut, the sting of blood being spilled… It was familiar, and Frank felt himself beginning to sink down into the mattress as Gerard cut him up. His head spun, whether from the pain and shock or the blood loss, and Frank let his eyes flutter closed, barely noticing the pained grunts and whines that fell from his throat. It felt like it was happening to someone else, like he was floating, aware but unafraid. Knives he knew. Knives he could handle. Gerard had cut him up and bled him so many times that Frank, while he couldn’t say he knew what to expect, he knew he could take it. He lay, prone, and let Gerard outline him and color him in like red paint on a canvas.

He could hear Gerard’s voice, but he couldn’t make out the words themselves, just the soft cadence Gerard took on when he was calming and content. Gerard never raised his voice or got angry, so Frank figured he was safe as long as Gerard didn’t decide he wanted Frank to respond. He’d said he loved it when Frank was good for him, and Frank could do that. He could be good right now. Maybe he _was_ in shock after all.

Dimly, around the cotton wool blurring his senses, Frank heard Gerard chuckle softly, the sound fading until he was almost purring, humming quietly under his breath and drawing shapes on Frank’s skin with his fingers in Frank’s blood instead of the knife. He could hear the contented smile on Gerard’s face without needing to look, and his heart twisted in confusion. _Fuck_ , it hurt, it hurt so fucking bad Frank thought he would really pass out this time, but Frank could feel himself smiling, just a little bit, through the tears on his cheeks that he was hiding in the sheets. He was so used to seeing the blankness in Gerard’s eyes, the emptiness that so often led to a body in the bathtub, or the fury when things didn’t go his way, or the mad desire when they fucked. Gerard’s happiness wasn’t something Frank got to experience often. He couldn’t help it, he was smiling because Gerard might be a crazy asshole, but Gerard was _his_ crazy asshole, and Frank was the reason he was smiling like that. Frank was the reason he was happy right now.

 _It’s like you want this._ Gerard had said that, earlier. Did he? Did Gerard really know Frank better than he knew himself? Frank was still alive, after all, still conscious. Gerard really hadn’t done anything Frank couldn’t handle, however much Frank didn’t feel like it at the time. He’d been nervous, terrified, angry, a whole range of adrenaline-fueled emotions and he’d been left wrung out and exhausted, but he was still _here_ , he _had_ been able to handle everything Gerard had thrown at him. Was Frank stronger than he thought? Or was Gerard right? Deep down, further than Frank could see on his own, did he really _want_ this?

Distracted by Gerard’s good mood, Frank missed the change in Gerard’s breathing, the telltale hitch that took him from _pleased_ to _ready to fuck._ He didn’t miss the fist in his hair though, yanking his neck back at an ungodly angle, nor the fingers sluiced in blood painting over his lips and chin. Frank clamped his mouth shut but couldn’t ignore the coppery smell, and Gerard just kept pulling and pulling until Frank had to relax his jaw or snap something in his neck. The moment he did, Gerard was there, pressing his fingers in between Frank’s lips and smearing blood across his tongue. Frank gagged, which Gerard took as an invitation to delve down Frank’s throat.

“That’s it,” Gerard murmured into Frank’s ear, pressing himself along Frank’s back, which screamed in protest, “Open up for me. Good boy.”

Frank choked around Gerard’s fingers, hands scrabbling uselessly for some kind of purchase while his throat convulsed, desperately trying to force Gerard out. Frank forced a breath through his nose but it was no use, his gag reflex had kicked in and wanted Gerard’s fingers _out_ , _now_.

Gerard kept his fingers there as he started to grind his hips, letting Frank feel how excited the experience had made him. He kept them there until Frank tasted bile, eyes fluttering as his body threatened to lose consciousness, then Gerard withdrew all of a sudden and Frank’s body gasped for breath, desperately sucking air into his burning throat.

He was scared, hurt and tired. Despite knowing Gerard wouldn’t kill him, he couldn’t help but still be fucking _terrified._ He didn’t doubt Gerard could still hurt him horribly without killing him.

“Pretty boy.” Gerard whispered, sounding too happy for Frank’s liking. Frank knew that Gerard calling him _pretty boy_ wasn’t a compliment. Not while he was in this state. No, there was nothing _pretty_ about this. Gerard was just a sick fuck with a twisted idea of beauty.

“Listen, Frankie.” Gerard began as he slowly pulled away, dragging his pointer finger along Frank’s spine. Frank sobbed harder, a little bit of spit dripping onto the mattress as he did so. “I’m going to be kind to you. If you’re a good boy, I’ll let you come, okay?” He said in a sickly sweet voice. Frank wanted to vomit again. He could even feel it rising in his throat, begging to come out. But he held it back because he knew that Gerard wouldn’t like it if Frank threw up on their bed. “But if you’re bad, I’m locking you in the basement again. Now stop fucking crying.”

Frank wanted to weep at the mention of their basement, but he knew that it’d just get even worse if he went against Gerard and continued to cry. Frank bit back a sob and shoved his face into the sheets, squeezing his eyes as he wished for this to just end.

“Get up, Frank.”

Frank’s bottom lip wobbled as he forced himself up, swallowing every cry that wanted to tear from his throat. He couldn’t cry now. He knew Gerard was serious about throwing him in the basement. Fuck, Gerard would probably leave him down there overnight. His body protested his every movement he made as he adjusted himself, sitting back on his heels. He hung his head as he tried to hide his tears, despite Gerard already being aware of them.

 

“See, baby? You’re _fine._ ” Gerard drawled out slowly, almost sounding bored. Frank knew he wasn’t, though. Gerard was enjoying himself too much to be bored. Frank knew that every sound of pain that passed his lips was music to his ears; every scar on his body was art to Gerard.

But Gerard also loved being able make Frank quiet. Yes, he loved the pretty sounds that Frank made, but he loved knowing that he could silence Frank just as much. He loved knowing he had that power.

Gerard grinned lazily at him before shuffling forward, closing in the distance between them. “Such a good boy.” Gerard cooed, slowly dragging a single finger up Frank’s arm. Frank swallowed and squeezed his eyes shut, keeping his head down.

“Stop doing that.” Gerard whispered, furrowing his brows together. He pulled his lips into a tight line when Frank sobbed pitifully. “Come on, Frankie. I want to see your face.”

Frank took in a shaky breath at his words. His head felt like it was being weighed down. It felt so heavy. So heavy that he wasn’t sure he’d be able to lift it. Maybe it was because he was beaten and broken, or maybe it was because he simply didn’t want to look up and see the reality of things.

Frank knew he could deny it all he wanted, but the truth would always be there. The truth would always be written on his skin in scabs or scars. There was no forgetting what had happened. He could never live peacefully without the horror of knowing what Gerard had done lurking around in his head. He could never erase the memories of all the lifeless bodies Gerard had forced him to look at, or how he had just forced a gun into his mouth. He would never forget the feeling that he experienced the moment Gerard’s finger rested on the trigger, promising a hole through the back of his head. He’d never forget the relief he felt when the chamber clicked, announcing that it was empty. He’d never get over feeling that he got when he realized that he wasn’t dead.

Most of all, he wouldn’t forget what pure fear felt like.

“Don’t fight me.” Gerard breathed into his hair as he pressed himself against Frank’s back. A low whine escaped Frank when it applied pressure to his wounds, his whole back screaming in protest. He had to bite back another sob as the burn of the open wounds overtook his senses.

Frank whimpered when Gerard wrapped one arm around his waist, holding him even tighter while his other hand began to slide downwards. Frank’s breathing hitched when Gerard’s hand brushed along his happy trail, choking on a sob when Gerard’s hand wrapped around him.

He wasn’t exactly _hard_ , but he still had a bit of an erection. He wasn’t sure how he had kept it during this entire thing. He was sure that being scared out of his mind would have killed his arousal, but he was proven wrong when Gerard began to move his hand.

Frank didn’t really want to enjoy it. He didn’t want to enjoy being touched by the man would had just destroyed his body, but he couldn’t help it. Everything just hurt so bad, and he was desperate for any type of gentle touch. He was just so desperate to feel something _good_.

“I said don’t fight me.” Gerard reminded him when Frank bit down on his lip. He was so quiet when he said it. So quiet that Frank almost didn’t hear him over the rushing of blood in his head. “That means letting me hear you, Frank.”

Frank didn’t reply, just let his lip go from between his teeth. He ran his tongue along the swollen flesh on habit. He didn’t really want to recognize that he was enjoying this, nor did he want to give Gerard the satisfaction of knowing that what he was doing working. But he knew it wouldn’t end well if he didn’t listen to Gerard.

Frank sighed when Gerard thumbed over the head of his dick, finger digging into the slit gently. It wasn’t anything good or overly pleasurable, but it was much better than the pain he had been experiencing. Anything felt better than that.

Frank instinctively pressed himself back against Gerard when he started to stroke him again, wincing when pain shot through his body. For a short moment, he had forgotten about the cuts on his back. He was really sure how, considering Gerard had basically _massacred_ it.

Gerard’s movements were precise and skilled. Frank hated how responsive he was to his touch. He hated that Gerard knew his body and knew that to do. He hated the way his hips instinctively bucked into his fist, resulting in a breathy chuckle from Gerard.

“You don’t have to be so afraid.” Gerard breathed into his hair. Frank whimpered at this, his heart beating wildly in his chest. It was crazy to try to not be afraid. Frank was sure that it was impossible. There was no calm in this storm. There was no shelter. He had to bear the full extent of it. He had to bear the full extent of _Gerard._

The tears continued to stream down Frank’s face as Gerard help him, his hand still around his cock. Gerard had so much power over him at that moment and he knew that it would be bad to disobey him.

“You’re not listening to me.” Gerard told him, an underlying threat hanging heavy in his words. Frank could hear the scowl in his voice as he spoke, and his fear began to rise even more. “I told you to stop being afraid of me.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m sorry!” Frank squeaked when Gerard squeezed him painfully tight. “I’m so sorry.” He choked out when Gerard’s fingers flexed around him. He hurt so bad. The pleasure he had just had was gone, leaving him with nothing but pain and tears.

Frank sniffled quietly when Gerard began to make a soothing sound, kissing at his neck softly. His lips were feather light against his skin, a total contrast to how he had been touching him not even a second ago. Frank knew it wouldn’t last however, refusing himself to have a false sense of hope.

“Just agree with me and everything will be fine, okay?” Gerard smiled, the sound of it leaving a bad taste in Frank’s mouth. Gerard was fucking sick on so many levels and he didn’t know how much more he could handle.

Frank forced himself to nod, knowing that Gerard would get angry again if he didn’t respond. He just had to keep telling himself that it would be over soon, even if he was lying to himself. That’s what he always had to do. He always had to lie. Whether it was telling himself that he was fine, or forcing himself to think that he and Gerard could one day be normal. It was just lie after lie.

“Now…I remember telling you to look at me earlier, did I not?” Gerard said. Frank cursed under his breath when he realized that yes, Gerard had. And he hadn’t listened to him. Gerard hummed, his hand tightening around Frank only slightly. It wasn’t enough to hurt, but it still caused Frank’s heart to jump in his chest.

“Answer me.”

“Yes.” Frank forced out through his tears, his voice barely audible. He wasn’t crying as heavily as he had been before, but there were still tears. His throat was so raw from the crying that it almost hurt to speak, but he knew he had to.

“And what did you not do?”

“Look at you.” Frank gasped when Gerard start moving his hand again. He knew the system. Most of the time, if he behaved, there was a reward. That was if he was lucky. Sometimes Gerard just completely disregarded his good behavior and did whatever he wanted.

“If you do that for me I’ll keep going.” Gerard murmured. Frank knew what he meant. If he followed his order, Gerard would keep touching him. If he followed his order, he had less of a chance of being hurt.  That was if Gerard kept his word, of course. Which he hardly ever did.

“Come on, baby.” He cooed. “Look at me. I just want to see your face.” Gerard let go of him, instead now resting his hands on Frank’s thighs.

Frank inhaled deeply before forcing himself to lift his head. His entire body protested as he pulled away and turned around, looking at Gerard with red, puffy eyes. His bottom lip began to wobble again when he saw how Gerard was looking at him. His mouth was pulled back into a smile that he could only describe as evil, excitement in his eyes as he stared at his broken lover. It made Frank’s stomach churn.

“Beautiful.” Gerard whispered with a smile. Frank winced when he stroked the side of his face, the cold touch of his lover sending chills along his spine. He had the urge to slap Gerard’s hand away, but he knew better than that. “I love seeing you like this, Frankie. I know I’ve said this before but I really mean it.”

Frank managed a weak nod, whimpering when Gerard’s expression suddenly went dark. He didn’t know what he had done. He had listened to Gerard like he had asked. He should have known Gerard wouldn’t stick to his word.

“What do you say?” Gerard asked, his nails beginning to dig into the skin of Frank’s cheek. Frank flinched, squeezing his eyes shut. He reopened them a second later to see Gerard glaring at him.

“What?” Frank breathed.

“I said, _what do you say?_ I complimented you, remember? I’m giving you one more chance to answer me.” Gerard slowly moved his hand down and along Frank’s jaw, stopping to skim his finger over Frank’s bottom lip. “Now, what do you say?”

Frank’s lips parted slightly as what Gerard was saying dawned on him. He couldn’t help but feel a little stupid for not catching it the first time. And the way that Gerard was staring at him told him that he thought so too. At least he thought so today. Tomorrow, if he was in a good mood, he’d probably think that Frank was brilliant. One day he could think that Frank was the smartest, prettiest person in the world. And then the next day he could think he was a dumb whore. Nothing with Gerard was ever definite.

“Thank you.” Frank whispered. He breathed a sigh of relief when Gerard hummed and reached between them, gripping Frank gently. Frank’s breathing hitched, his eyes fluttering closed involuntarily. They snapped open, however, when he felt Gerard’s lips against his throat. In those few seconds that he had his eyes closed, Gerard had moved closer. He was close enough now that he could kiss him without having to lean in.

“Good boy.” Gerard praised him quietly. The smile had returned and it once again sent shivers down Frank’s spine as he looked at it. It was so eerie. It reminded him exactly of the type of grin you’d find on a villain's face in a horror movie. Maybe it was because Gerard _was_ a villain, and Frank’s life was basically a horror movie itself. “See, that wasn’t that wasn’t that hard, was it?”

Frank shook his head in response. He didn’t actually know if Gerard had wanted him to respond or not but he wasn’t taking any chances. He was just trying to keep Gerard in the good mood he was in right now, and for that to happen he had to be very careful.

“How do these feel?” Gerard tenderly skimmed a finger over the end of a cut. Frank winced and whined quietly. The side of Gerard’s mouth quirked up slightly at the noise. “Yeah, I figured they hurt pretty bad. I’ll clean them after this.”

Frank whimpered at the thought. While he wanted this all to end, he knew that it was going to burn like a bitch when Gerard washed them. He could imagine it now. He’d just have to keep his head down and clench his teeth as the familiar burn of disinfectant washed over him.

“I _did_ consider having you on your back, but I don’t want you to fuck up the sheets even more.” He glanced at the blooded sheets beneath them with distaste. “You’re just going to have to throw them out. They’re fucking ruined.” He said it like it was somehow _Frank’s_ fault. Like Frank had spilled his own blood. And he sure was that it was more than the sheets that were ruined. The mattress was completely fucked, stained to no end. It always made him queasy when she stripped away the sheets and was presented with various blood stains. _His blood._

“I’m sorry.” Frank mumbled. His tears had slowed down a little, no longer running down his face rapidly. He knew they were still there, although. They were still threatening to fall. One little thing would set Frank off again and he’d be sobbing into the mattress like a bitch.

“It’s whatever. We’ll just have to buy more.” Gerard replied, humming quietly under his breath. Somehow, his calmness frightened Frank even more. Fuck, _everything_ was scaring him at the moment. “Now, remember what I said.”

Frank’s tears threatened to spill again at that. Of course there was something to it. Something was about to happen, and by the way Gerard was talking, it didn’t sound pleasant. He wasn’t surprised by that, not at all. There was no pleasantry in his life.

“If you’re good, I’ll get you off. If you’re not, I’ll tear your back up even more, okay?” Gerard told him in a sickly sweet tone. It made Frank nauseous. This was never going to end, was it? Gerard was just going to mess with him forever. He would break him until he couldn’t break anymore.

“Okay.” Frank forced out. He wasn’t sure how much more he could take but he knew he couldn't back out now. Or back out at all, really. There wasn’t an option here. Frank just had to bite the bullet and get through it.

 _Bite the bullet._ He was just glad that there were no bullets anymore. Well, not that there were any to begin with. It was all a fake scare. Fake scares with fake threats, real pain with real scars.

“Now,” Gerard began, shoving on Frank’s chest lightly. It wasn’t hard enough to make Frank fall or anything, but he whimpered and flinched away anyway. “On your knees, face down, okay?”

Frank knew what he meant and immediately followed his instructions, moving into the position and hissing when it made his wounds burn even more. He winced when he felt the sheet stick to his cheek, having to hold back a gag when he realized it was his own blood gluing them to him. He squeezed his eyes shut, refusing to looking at the huge puddles of blood that surrounded him.

Gerard didn’t say anything in response, but Frank heard the quiet hum of approval. Then he heard the clinking of a belt as Gerard fumbled with his jeans, the bed dipping and springing back up when he moved off so he could take them off. Frank squeezed his eyes shut even tighter when he heard them drop to the floor, knowing that what was about to happen was nearing faster and faster.

The bed dipped down again and Frank pressed his face into the mattress, just wanting for the earth to open up and swallow him whole. He shivered when Gerard’s hands were suddenly on his ass, his eyes springing open with surprise when he felt something cold touch his skin. He gasped sharply, jerking away from it on instinct.

“Stop fuckin’ moving.” Gerard muttered, digging his nails into Frank’s skin softly as a warning. Frank bit his lip and stilled, trying to figure out what it was. His mind was so fogged up that he could barely think. He realized what it was however when he feel Gerard’s finger skim over his hole.

Frank almost couldn’t believe it. No, he _definitely_ couldn’t believe it. Gerard was acting _preparing him._ Gerard was in enough of a good mood to actually prep Frank for sex. Frank expected him to just fuck him dry, despite knowing that it would probably hurt _himself_ doing it. In the end, it was all about hurting Frank. He recognized the sticky substance, even though they hardly used it.

“I said stop moving.” Gerard hissed, digging his nails into Frank again. This time, it was with force and enough to startle him. Frank was about to object that he hadn’t moved before he realized that yes, he had been moving. He’d been pushing back against Gerard without even knowing it. “I’ll stop if you keep fucking around.”

“I’m sorry.” Frank whispered immediately. He didn’t want to lose this. He knew that it wasn’t much compared to the rest of Gerard’s cruel actions. It wasn’t anything that would take the pain away or distract him from it, but he was willing to take anything that might even give him a _chance_ of comfort, even if it was hardly anything at all.

“’ _I’m sorry.’”_ Gerard mimicked him, earning a surprised noise from Frank when he suddenly pushed a finger inside of him. “You’re always fuckin’ apologizing. It’s annoying and you sound pathetic.”

 _You make me apologize,_ Frank thought almost bitterly. He was surprised that he could even form a proper thought at this point. He had managed to calm down so he wasn’t sobbing anymore, but he was still a mess and hadn’t stopped completely crying. He knew he sounded pathetic when he apologized, but what else was he supposed to do? That’s what Gerard expected from him and he knew there were no other options except giving him what he wanted.

Frank didn’t know what he was supposed to say to that in return. Sorry? He always just apologized when Gerard was crude to him. He couldn’t exactly reply to him with what he had just made fun of Frank for. So he just stayed silent and let Gerard do his work.

Frank shifted slightly when Gerard pressed a second finger into him, the familiar stretch catching his attention. It hurt a little due to Frank’s entire body being sore, but this was a pain that he welcomed. He didn’t mind the pain at all when Gerard’s finger brushed over the spot inside of him that he knew all too well. He pressed back against Gerard without realizing it, silently begging him to give him more. He cursed under his breath when Gerard rubbed his fingers against it gently, not even giving him time to process what was happening. His curse morphed into a whine when Gerard pressed harder.

Gerard mumbled something under his breath, but whatever it was it was too low for Frank to understand. He didn’t really care, although. He was too focused on the way Gerard was moving his fingers, and how he was somehow starting to relax. His body sunk into the mattress slightly, some of the tension leaving his previously uptight frame.

"Christ, you’re needy.” Gerard muttered. He didn’t actually sound annoyed, despite what his words meant. Frank was sure that he enjoyed him being needy. It aided him in getting what _he_ wanted, and gave him a feeling of powering knowing that he could do that to Frank. It was all about power, and this time it was no different.

“Yeah.” Frank gasped out when Gerard separated his fingers, scissoring Frank gently. He was surprised that Gerard was still being so gentle with him, but he wasn’t going to complain. Anyway, he knew that was all going to end when Gerard actually got around to them fucking. It always changed when it became that. He would become violently rough, tire Frank out and then he’d take care of him. Well, as much as Gerard could take care of somebody.

Frank made a confused noise when Gerard pulled his fingers out, leaving him open and wanting. Gerard hadn’t been at it long and Frank wasn’t entirely sure if he was ready to take on whatever he was going to do next. He supposed that he should have been grateful that he got prep at all.

 _Be grateful you’re alive._ Frank told himself. He had much more important things to think about than how little Gerard had fingered him. Like how he could now feel Gerard pressing at his entrance, not applying enough pressure from him to actually enter. Frank held his breath as he waited for whatever pain Gerard was about to deliver next. There was no pleasure without pain with Gerard, and he knew better to get his hopes up at that moment.

Frank didn’t react as badly as he normally would when Gerard suddenly pushed down on his back, shoving him into the mattress a little more. He whimpered at the pain but stayed still for the most part. He was just going to let Gerard do whatever he wanted. Just close his eyes and deal with whatever Gerard decided to give him.

Gerard’s hand stayed on his back as he began to push in. Frank closed his eyes and let his head sink into the mattress, biting his lip as the familiar feeling of being full overcame him. He liked this. No, he _loved_ this. He loved how Gerard’s hand slowly slid down his back, only to tangle itself in his bloody, already knotty hair. He loved the burning of his scalp when Gerard used his hair to yank him up. Hell, he almost didn’t really even mind the pain of his back at that moment.

Frank let his head roll back over Gerard’s shoulder, closing his eyes and sighing when Gerard let go of his hair and instead grabbed Frank’s waist. Gerard pulled out slightly before pushing back in, this time a little rougher than before. Frank didn’t mind it at all. He wanted it to be _rougher,_ if he was being honest.

“You’re such a fucking whore, you know that, right?” Gerard muttered, jerking his hips up into Frank. Frank choked on a whine, a strangled noise escaping him. He knew that he was a whore. He was whatever Gerard wanted him to be. He knew that he’d always be that, no matter how much he defied Gerard sometimes. In the end, if Gerard wanted him to be something, he was it.

“Just a few minutes ago you were crying and telling me to leave you alone. Now you’re just taking it.” Gerard continued, snapping his hips up even faster now. Frank cried out quietly when Gerard wrapped his other hand around his cock. “You’ll do anything for me, won’t you?”

Frank wanted to be able to say no more than anything. He wanted to deny it and show that he had some type of will power and could fight Gerard, but he knew he couldn’t. No matter how hard he tried to hold his ground, Gerard would always be able to tear him apart.

“Yes.” Frank forced through gritted teeth, exhaling  loudly when Gerard hummed. He seemed pleased and Frank could tell that by the way his thrusts sped up. Frank wasn’t ready to come yet, but he knew that if he was good this could end a lot faster.

Frank’s eyes fluttered shut for only a second before they were shooting open again, his body jerking in surprise when he felt the familiar pain of Gerard biting down on his shoulder. It almost felt a little different this time, and it took a second for Frank to realize _why._

Gerard had broken the skin this time. He had somehow bitten down hard enough to break through the skin. The wasn’t the first time he had managed to tear Frank’s skin before with his teeth. Nowhere even close to the first time. It just felt different time. Maybe it was because Frank was loopy from crying so much or he was just _tired._ Either way, he honestly didn’t mind the pain. It was actually _welcomed._

“Again.” Frank begged before he could stop himself. He was about to repeat himself but cut himself off with a gasp when he suddenly felt a wetness over the wound. He realized a second later that Gerard was actually _licking over the wound._ He was lapping at the blood, tilting his head slightly to get at it with a better angle.  The thought would have made Frank’s stomach churn before, but now that it was actually happening he found himself to be enjoying it. It burned but it was a wanted burn, unlike the burn he had got from the cuts.

He had somehow forgotten about the cuts at that moment, but when he focused back on it he could clearly feel it. It didn’t seem to bother him this time, oddly enough. While it had hurt terribly before, he found that focusing on it now enhanced everything he was feeling. His want for pain was finally kicking in and he was becoming more and more excited.

 _“Again?”_ Gerard repeated, making Frank remember that he had just asked for it again. His breath caught in his throat as excitement ran throughout him. He wanted it so bad. It had just been one little action and yet his body craved it more than anything.

“Where?” Gerard breathed. “Where do you want it, Frankie?”

If Frank was in the right state of mind at that moment he would have wondered why Gerard was asking. Gerard basically owned Frank’s body. He could do whatever he wanted wherever he wanted. It was never truly up to Frank.

Frank wanted to respond but he didn’t think he was able to. He couldn’t even form a proper thought, much less _speak._ He knew that if he didn’t respond Gerard would either get angry at him or do it where he wanted. He knew he was right about the second part when he felt Gerard shift, but he hadn’t expected the second sharp puncture over the same exact place. Gerard’s teeth tore into the already exposed flesh of the previous bite. Frank cried out a pathetic noise of pain mixed with pleasure, falling on the edge of sobbing when Gerard violently jerked his lips up again.

Frank was starting to want this to never end so he was more than a little disappointed when he felt his body beginning to tense up. The all too familiar feeling of his release was creeping up on him and he didn’t know if he wanted to scream at it to go away or beg for it to stay. He wasn’t sure where Gerard was at because he wasn’t really able to pay attention enough to see if he was showing any signs of nearing it or not, but he knew that soon Frank was going to.

Gerard didn’t let up. He kept biting down harder and harder until Frank whined quietly. He liked the pain but he didn’t know how far Gerard would go. He needed to cut Gerard off fully before he actually did some serious damage.

Although Frank’s body was already fucked up as it was.

Unlike what Frank thought, Gerard did pull away and started lapping over the deeper wound again, causing the burn once again. Frank choked on a moan when Gerard sped up his strokes, the heat in his stomach growing by the minute.

“Come on.” Gerard muttered breathlessly and nipped at Frank’s earlobe. Frank squeezed his eyes shut and pushed himself down against Gerard, his lips parting slightly as he panted. “I told you that if you were good you could come.”

Frank was ecstatic at his words. He needed this release. He felt like he’d explode if he didn’t get it. Frank knew he didn’t have to wait long, though, especially when he felt Gerard thumb at the head of his cock.

Frank choked out a noise he couldn’t even describe when it happened. It sounded like a strangled whine. He sounded hurt and scared when in reality he was the opposite. His entire body seemed to be falling apart but he was thriving. Gerard didn’t stop moving and his hand stayed on Frank’s cock the entire time, but he didn’t mind. He didn’t mind even when it ended and started to feel a little sensitive. He didn’t mind especially when he felt Gerard falter for a few seconds before going still, one of his hands squeezing Frank tightly.

Frank just let it happen. He didn’t rush Gerard. He knew that it’d be over when it was over and that it was best just for Gerard to decide what he wanted to do. Frank just stayed relaxed when Gerard took his head away from his cock, now wrapping both his arms around Frank. Frank shivered slightly when Gerard pressed a gentle kiss to his neck.

“Mine.” He told Frank, squeezing Frank for a second. He didn’t sound malicious when he spoke. He was sated and Frank could tell that by his voice. Despite his body hurting and the pain beginning to unpleasant attack his senses once again, a weak smile spread on Frank’s face.

“All yours.” He mumbled in response. He chuckled quietly when Gerard made a happy noise, but frowned with he began to pull away. He winced when Gerard pulled out of him, not quite sure what he was supposed to do now.

“You gotta shower, babe.” Gerard told Frank quietly, reaching for him with a small smile. Frank blushed when he realized that they were both still naked but took Gerard’s hand anyway, wincing and making a pained sound when his body protested the movement. Gerard frowned slightly at it and ran a hand through his hair.

“I’ll have to clean those properly after the shower.” He murmured before looking back up to Frank. His smile returned when he saw that Frank was barely paying attention, too out of it to really understand what he was saying. He laughed quietly before shaking his head. “Come on, we gotta clean up. And I’ll give you medicine for your headache after this, okay?”

Frank just gave him a loopy smile and nodded, wordlessly following Gerard when his lover laughed and began to pull him towards the bathroom.


End file.
